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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705818">Now I'm In It</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_for_Slashing/pseuds/Two_for_Slashing'>Two_for_Slashing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Men's Hockey RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Happy Ending, Hockey Big Bang 2020, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Sibling Relationships Study</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,993</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705818</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Two_for_Slashing/pseuds/Two_for_Slashing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack knew a call from the New Jersey Devils was always going to be a life-changing event. He just didn't expect it to change his life in the ways it does</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesper Boqvist/Jack Hughes, Quinn Hughes/Matthew Tkachuk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Hockey Big Bang (2020)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome to my submission for the Hockey Big Bang 2020!  This story is quite massive in scale, but it was fun to write, and I appreciate the chance to get to share it with you all.  A few things before you get started:</p><p>+ This work has an accompanying podfic, read by the lovely Annapods, who was a delight to work with despite my ever hectic schedule.  The link for that may be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274910204<br/>(she is also responsible for the above cover below, which I love!!!)</p><p>+This story is 100% fiction, based around a timeline where the Hughes brothers grow up in New Jersey and Jack can be an undrafted pic for the NJ Devils.  With that being said, as the story is not realistic, everything that happens in it is not necessarily realistic.  It should also be noted that the NJ Devils lineup in this story is not accurate to the one that is currently (2020) in place.  This story is set in 2018 and the lineup is meant to reflect that era of the NJ Devils.</p><p>+ This story features, and deals with, implied suicide attempts and the mental health struggles of its main character.  I attempted to treat this topic as delicately as possible and in no way intended to devalue or disrespect those who deal with these sorts of things in real life.</p><p>+ This story is long, like really long.  You've been warned.</p><p>+ If interested, may I suggest listening to "Now I'm In It" by HAIM while reading this story, which inspired the title of this fic.  It is also an absolute banger of a song.</p><p>Anyway, that's all!  Enjoy, leave a comment if you'd like, and thanks for stopping by!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
</div><p>The potential for a call from the New Jersey Devils came about three weeks after the end of his season. Jack had seen the name pop up on the caller ID, thinking the name had looked familiar but unable to place just where he’d seen it. He had met with a group of agents and other representatives from the team several months back; they had been impressed with this play at Westwood, had been watching him quietly much longer than that, and were potentially interested in talking to him. Jack had smiled wide, talked back just like his father had taught him, and then tried not to get his hopes.</p><p>That was the hardest part. Jack had gotten good at stuffing his feelings away over the years. He wanted to feel strongly for what was happening with this.</p><p>His brothers had seemed excited, even though Jack knew he had seen a scowl twist Quinn’s mouth every single time their mother was on the phone with family and friends bragging about Jack’s successes. It wasn’t like she didn’t brag about Quinn when it was needed; Quinn was playing locally, and obviously it wasn’t anything like a potential call from an actual NHL team, but he was still playing. Luke was busy making waves with the Hitmen and being taller and leaner than both his older brothers, fast on his feet and with better humor than the rest of his family combined.</p><p>All three Hughes brothers were talented in their own way – their mother had been telling them that for years, more and more fervently as it became apparent that there was the potential for success for at least one, maybe two, maybe even all of three, of her sons; she had never wanted them to be jealous of each other.</p><p>Jack knows Quinn is jealous of him. Or he had been jealous, at least, for a while. He figures Quinn wouldn’t really be jealous of him anymore, with the exception of the call from the New Jersey Devils.</p><p>Their father had answered it, Jack sitting at the kitchen table straining to hear. Their mother had walked back and forth, smiling at her middle child, kissing the top of his head over and over. Normally Jack wouldn’t have found this behavior odd. His mother had always been very loving, another thing she had tried to split fairly amongst all three of her boys, but she was being more affectionate than usual.</p><p>“Whatever happens, you know we’re so proud of you,” she had whispered. Jack had seen the subtle mistiness in her eyes, his heart clenching tightly.</p><p>Things were different now. The fact that the Devils were still entertaining him as a potential prospect to ring through their development system, and that their father was speaking to an agent like he would actually allow Jack to have the opportunity of skating at the practice rink in Newark, was an even bigger deal.</p><p>He could see Quinn watching from the den, subtle glances over his shoulder while he and Luke busied themselves playing FIFA.</p><p>Jack catches his eyes for a brief moment before Quinn looks away, his face blank.</p><p>Things were different now.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>Jack doesn’t remember that much from that night. He doesn’t even remember falling into the pool, or even thinking about falling into the pool, or how he got outside. His first memory was of Quinn yanking him out of the water, screaming hysterically in his ear, <i>fuck fuck fuck fuck Jack</i> over and over again for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. Jack could remember that it was dark out, probably late, and that he could stars in the clear night sky. Every so often Quinn obstructed his view, his entire face panicked in a way Jack had never seen before, and then suddenly strangers were above him.</p><p>He thinks he recalls realizing that he was shaking as he was being lifted onto a stretcher. His mouth and the inside of his nostrils, his lungs and his stomach, were burning from the chlorine he had ingested. Quinn had somehow managed to get him to spew most of the water up and out, but gagging fits kept rolling through his stomach and his throat felt like it was on fire.</p><p>Eventually things went dark. Jack welcomed the darkness. His brain had been groggy but he had known that things would clear out eventually, and then he would have to be alone with his thoughts. Jack was never interested in being alone with his thoughts, and he had wanted to be as far away from his own thoughts that night in the ambulance.</p><p>He could vaguely remember hearing beeping sounds before he slipped away, one of the paramedics next to him on a phone, say something about a potential suicide attempt.</p><p>Jack had thought he had laughed at that word, but he had started coughing too hard to remember if that was true.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He had been released a few days later. No one said a word to him on the half hour drive home. Tears for Fears had been blaring on the radio, his mother driving with a steady hand and the least emotion Jack had ever seen from her. Quinn had been riding shotgun; he kept looking back at Jack, his dark eyes wide, not saying a word.</p><p>Jack couldn’t look at him. He stuck with the window, busying himself with the Turnpike and the buildings of Manhattan and the airplanes coming in and out of Newark International. He found himself insanely jealous of people getting to take off from their lives and go someplace else, people who weren’t stuck in minivans with their heartbroken mother and silent older brother.</p><p>Jack wished he had something to say, but his throat had been on fire from the chlorine and his body was still aching from every needle they had jammed into his veins, so he wasn’t feeling like much for talking anyway.</p><p>He didn’t think sorry was going to cut it anyway.</p><p>When they got home Luke met them on the front porch. His hug was the only good thing Jack received that night.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>Jack didn’t particularly like that the term “suicide attempt” kept getting thrown around a lot for the first month home from the hospital. He didn’t particularly like that the therapist his doctor had prescribed for him to see kept using it, or that he could hear his parents talking about it down the hall in the bedroom every night. Most people outside of their immediate family heard that Jack had an incident swimming, which technically was only a minor lie. Jack hadn’t been swimming, or he didn’t remember thinking about swimming, but he had ended up in the pool anyway.</p><p>Everyone kept asking him what he had been thinking that night. Jack just kept responding with “I don’t know”. That seemed to satisfy no one.</p><p>Quinn watched him quietly from a distance the first few days, saying nothing, not even coming into his room to talk. Luke had been in there, keeping close, chattering nervously about anything that he seemed able to think about. Their father hadn’t said much, just pulling Jack close and telling him <em>everything was going to be alright, son, it has to be</em>. Their mother was still tearing up every single time she so much as looked at him for too many seconds too long, but she hugged him with a little less fervency now, a little bit like how she did before that night.</p><p>It was about three weeks when his older brother finally darkened his doorway.</p><p>Jack had been playing Mario on his Switch, a game his doctor and therapist had both deemed safe enough for him to entertain himself with. Quinn had stood there, leaning against the wood doorframe, arms crossed, glaring at what looked like the floor.</p><p>Then “What the fuck were you thinking?” cracked his silence.</p><p>Jack didn’t respond. Or he doesn’t remember responding, and he doesn’t remember thinking about responding. The next thing he knew Luke was holding him back, and he was crying hysterically, and their mother was screaming at Quinn, and Quinn was screaming back at her.</p><p>His mother slept with him that night, her arms a warm reassurance around his body as he cried himself to sleep, unsure of what to think about anything anymore.</p><p>Quinn doesn’t talk to him for another three weeks.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>After that incident the family stopped speaking about anything that remotely related to a “suicide attempt”. No one used the term in front of Jack anymore, including both his doctor and his therapist. His therapist begins focusing on moving towards the future, where Jack could go next. She asks him plenty about where he wanted to go after high school, what college he thought he’d be committing to, if he was going to try to keep playing hockey.</p><p>She hadn’t known about the scouts from the New Jersey Devils. Jack has been keeping that quiet, outside of bragging to his teammates at Westwood. Most just smiled at him, a few scowled, and his coach kept clapping him on the back, saying it made sense.</p><p>Quinn had been on the team with him the year before, and his brother had shown a lot of potential. His coach insisted that Jack’s potential was much more different than Quinn’s, that Jack could somehow maybe do what no one from their high school team had ever done before.</p><p>The darkness in Jack’s mind began to clear a little bit. Perhaps the Devils weren’t a too far away dream. Perhaps Jack was capable of doing more than he had ever realized.</p><p>A few days after the call, which his father had told him sounded promising, Jack heard his mother and brother speaking quietly in her bedroom.</p><p>“What if they don’t take him? What if it sets him off again?”</p><p>“Honey, your father and I have spoken to his doctor. They don’t think it’s a bad idea to try to get your brother back out there again. This will give him something to look forward to.”</p><p>Jack could picture the scowl on Quinn’s face. “Mom, what if he tries to kill himself again?”</p><p>He could hear movement; their mother was putting laundry away, probably.</p><p>A noise like a sob cut around the noise of a drawer being shut, and Jack slips quietly away.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He had been going to the Prudential Center to see Devils games since he was a little boy.<br/>
Their mother had been the one to get all three Hughes brothers into hockey. Their father played, but so had she – they had met, in a rink, for adult league in their mid-20s. Their father had been completely taken with the blonde beauty who could skate circles around him. She had found him shy and sweet, and liked that he didn’t heckle her for being better than he was.</p><p>Quinn had been her pet project, the one she had laced up as soon as he was steady on his feet, had taken to the rink for practice, had done what she could to get him to want to play.</p><p>Jack hadn’t started skating until after he was five. Luke followed quickly when it became apparent that Jack had something special going for him, almost as special as what Quinn had had when he had first begun.</p><p>To help grow their love of the game outside of lessons and midgets teams, their father would save up for a handful of games a year. They were there when the New York Rangers were in town, hating their close-by neighbors with the passion that had been instilled in them, and to see all of the Florida teams, as that was where their mother had grew up. Jack didn’t realize that he was seeing the stuff of legends; as he grew older and jerseys of players he had idolized began to be retired, he found a deep sense of pride for the team his parents had been taking him to see.</p><p>All three boys had insisted growing up that they were going to play for the Devils. Those adamant insistences became jokes as they got older and the path to the NHL made itself apparent as a difficult one.</p><p>Then, suddenly, the path looked a bit easier than any of them had expected.</p><p>Easier wasn’t even the right word to describe it, but compared to what Quinn, Jack, and Luke had been thinking, their futures suddenly became a lot brighter.</p><p>“I hope you boys think about going to college anyway,” their mother had said when she overheard Quinn and Jack chatting away about it one night.</p><p>Quinn had made that decision, for her. Jack had thought about it. He had applied, and had received acceptances, and he could stay and play in New Jersey if he wanted to.</p><p>At one point the ability to go farther away had seemed like it could’ve been a reality. Jack did not have that option anymore, or at least he didn’t unless he wanted to worry his parents even more than they already were worrying.</p><p>But then the New Jersey Devils had called.</p><p>At least Newark was only a half hour drive from home.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>“I’m proud of you,” his father says as they walked towards the entrance of the Prudential Center.<br/>
Jack has on a light gray suit, a heavy winter jacket pulled over it. Although it was late April the weather was still chilly, and somehow a wind was blowing past all of the buildings and making what should have been a short and triumphant walk perfectly miserable.</p><p>Jack smiles up at his father. “Thanks, Dad.”</p><p>“Now you know if nothing becomes of this, it’s nothing to panic over.” He doesn’t look at him, but Jack could see the worry creasing his father’s forehead. His parents were not particularly old, or at least not any older than all of his friends’ parents, but something about his father had looked aged since the end of summer. Jack knew why, of course, and even though it had been months and he was still behaving, Jack could see the fear cast in his direction anytime he was presented with the opportunity for failure.</p><p>This also counted as the opportunity for failure. The Devils had just lost out on the playoffs, but they wanted to look at Jack for the fall season, whether he stayed in Jersey or potentially got sent to the upstate wasteland of Binghamton, New York, where the B team was currently playing. Jack had sworn that he wouldn’t look at it as a failure unless they actually wanted him to play. He was guaranteed nothing other than a look; they hadn’t even wanted him to skate.</p><p>“I know, Dad.”</p><p>“Don’t forget that.”</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>Inside they are greeted by a man, also wearing a suit. He introduces himself as Todd Ingram, head of scouting, shaking both Jack and his father’s hands with robust enthusiasm. Jack smiles as brightly as he can, the same bright smile his mother captivated his father with when she was skating past him to score goals, and they chatted amicably about the Devils’ season before being ushered into an office up on the third floor.</p><p>Todd has all of Jack’s statistics from Westwood printed out and on hand at his desk. “This is very impressive,” he says when they are all seated.</p><p>Jack beams. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to or not. He can see his father is beaming as well.</p><p>“We know that what we’re doing isn’t traditional. You’re not draft eligible, unfortunately, and I see you haven’t committed to any college teams. We are, however, not against considering signing a player of your caliber anyway. You could be what the Devils need to have in our system. The type of player who could crack the roster in a few years’ time with enough experience and growth.”</p><p>Jack is beaming so hard that he doesn’t even mind that he’s being called small. He’s a bit taller than Quinn, but not as tall as Luke, who in the end would probably be the biggest out of the three of them, but he certainly wasn’t far from the heights of average NHL players. He knew his weight was an issue but it would be something he could easily work on, if this were to become a thing.</p><p>Todd talks a bit more about what they’re looking for, what could possibly happen, and then he tells Jack to come back in a week with his skates.</p><p>He enters the practice arena, proudly donning his high school colors, and races around the ice for 30 minutes. It was silent, Todd and several other scouts watching him go, making notes on paper. At the end of the session Todd shakes his hand again, promising that he’ll hear from someone about something before summer gets too far gone.</p><p>Jack can barely contain himself the entire ride back home to Westwood. His father is smiling quietly to himself, and their mother chats happily over the Bluetooth.</p><p>He commits to a local college team anyway, knowing it’s the least he can do to make his mother proud, and to give himself something to look forward to should the news he hopes to receive not be given to him.</p><p>Quinn and Luke seem happy for his potential outcome. Luke claims loudly that he’s going to outrun Jack in a few years, actually getting himself drafted even if he has to go last. Quinn doesn’t say much, but he nods at his brother, a pleased look on his face.</p><p>Jack is happy for once that it is not a scowl, or even a sad look like he had been receiving since that night back at the end of the summer. For all that he and Quinn do together, for all that made them close, Jack knew Quinn struggled with jealous impulses, and he knew that he still hadn’t recovered from pulling his body from the pool that night.</p><p>They still hadn’t talked about it.</p><p>Jack wasn’t so sure they ever would.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>Jack graduates from high school quietly. His family goes on vacation to celebrate his success, and he heads from graduation party to graduation party, enjoying spending time with his friends while he still could.</p><p>He tries not to think about waiting for the New Jersey Devils to call. He keeps hoping, somehow, someway, that they would.</p><p>At the end of June the three Hughes brothers gathered together as they always did to watch the NHL Draft. The New York Rangers gathered the top pick that year; Quinn boos loudly as they select their first pick, some Finnish player Jack wasn’t too familiar with, and then they wait for the Devils to select theirs, some American-born player from Michigan.</p><p>Jack tries not to think about how that player could be his teammate someday. He tries to ignore the thoughts of how he could be playing with or against any of these players someday.</p><p>The call from the Devils comes eight days later. Jack almost collapses from excitement after he gets off the phone.</p><p>His family is watching him closely.</p><p>Jack can barely contain himself. “They want me to come try out in September!” he cries out, and then he is suddenly being pulled tightly against his mother, who is shrieking loudly in his ear.</p><p>“There goes college,” Quinn chuckles, pulling Jack close.</p><p>“I can still take classes online,” he says, meaning it, even though he knows it would be difficult.</p><p>Quinn roles his eyes at him, smiling anyway.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>His parents only tell their immediate family first – his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Eventually word trickles out. His coaches stop by, his friends all blow up his phone when they see his name on the training camp roster. A few of his neighbors come by to shake his hand. Quinn’s friends jeer at him jokingly, nudging him and telling him to go and get some when he’s famous, they’re all so jealous he can.</p><p>Jack wards off the Tkachuks as much as he can; Brady is Quinn’s closest friend and he’s over the most, and he and his older brother Matt are the most annoying jokers about Jack’s potential NHL situation. Everyone else he meets with a smile and as many thanks as he can come up with; Jack rolls his eyes at his own friends and ignores most of what they say to him, especially regarding going out and getting some.</p><p>In theory, they should all know better. Unfortunately, Jack knows that none of them know any better.</p><p>No one knows any better.</p><p>Jack knows that this is partially his own fault, but he can’t find it in himself to change anything about his situation.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He was going to, once, a few years back. He had been thinking about it for a while, actually, thought that perhaps he would say something to his mother.</p><p>Jack had even thought about telling Quinn. He thought Quinn might take it well, be rational about things, even.</p><p>He could never find the exact words to say. His parents had never really discussed this type of stuff with any of them, but they had always seemed like pleasant and accepting people. They always seemed to be so accepting of their sons, just insisting that they needed to be happy and honest, that Jack hoped it wasn’t too much to think that maybe they would extend him the acceptance he needed.</p><p>His friends were a different story. All of his coaches had preached tolerance but had done nothing to stop the casual use of the word “fag” in the locker room or done too much reprimanding of insults slung across the ice at opposing teams. The refs were usually the ones who got involved, not that any of them knew anything about the players they were chastising, and Jack had been guilty of saying certain things himself.</p><p>These were not some of Jack’s prouder moments. He figures it was what it was, although that should never be an excuse.</p><p>Sometimes, he wondered vaguely in the months following his accident, he thought he knew why he had ended up in the pool that night.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He changes his mind a few weeks before training camp is scheduled to begin.</p><p>Quinn has been much nicer to him all summer than Jack was expecting him to be. His brother had never been mean to him, exactly, but he wasn’t kind following the accident. Jack sometimes thinks that it makes sense Quinn was so hostile, being that he was the one who saved Jack’s life in the end, but everyone else had managed to find kindness for him. His older brother had been guarded for so long, until one day he just wasn’t.</p><p>They had been much closer growing up, before things in their lives had gotten complicated with potential career aspirations and Jack had shut himself down to avoid other complicating matters that had arisen out of nowhere with the rest of puberty.</p><p>Their parents take Luke down to Florida to see their mother’s family. At first Quinn and Jack were expected to go, but Quinn used the excuse of his second semester starting soon and Jack his nervousness for training camp to get out of going. His mother had been wary about leaving Jack alone with just Quinn, but their father had insisted it would be okay.</p><p>Quinn had been the one who saved Jack anyway. He knew everyone, including his parents and Quinn himself, knew he would do it again if he had to.</p><p>The Tkachuks stay over the first few nights, Brady hanging around with Quinn all day while Matt shows up after his job as a camp counselor is over. They don’t do anything too crazy outside of eat too much pizza and lay around on the couches watching too much TV, but Jack is pleased to see that the Tkachuks help to straighten out the house so he and Quinn aren’t cleaning a big mess at the end of the week before their parents come home.</p><p>They aren’t there Thursday night, much to Jack’s surprise. He takes that as a good sign that he should talk to his brother. They are as alone as they are going to be for a while, and Jack knows if he doesn’t try to say something at least once he might never be able to find the nerve to say anything again.</p><p>He finds Quinn laying on the couch, the TV off, flipping through a magazine. He doesn’t say anything when Jack sits on the armrest next to him, just glances at his brother with little interest before returning his focus to the flickering pages.</p><p>Jack waits. And he waits. And he waits.</p><p>“Not that I want you to go, but are you in here for a reason?” Quinn finally says, still looking at the magazine.</p><p>Normally Jack would come in and turn on MSG Network, so he supposes it makes sense that Quinn is suspicious of his behavior. “I need to tell you something,” he whispers so softly he isn’t even aware he said anything.</p><p>Quinn drops the magazine and sits up, worry flashing briefly across his eyes. “Shoot, what’s up?”</p><p>The words get stuck in Jack’s throat, exactly like he expected them to. He fidgets for a few minutes, unable to meet Quinn’s brown eyes. He can feel his brother’s stare boring into him, trying to read every moment, every fleeting facial expression. Eventually Jack sighs, a long and drawn-out noise unusual for him.</p><p>“You ever wonder why I did what I did that night?”</p><p>Quinn doesn’t even look like he’s moving. He blinks so slowly, eyes carefully trained to Jack’s face. “Yeah, all the time. Why?”</p><p>Jack doesn’t even know if he’s telling the truth. He’s never really given much thought to what happened, other than it did happen, and that he doesn’t remember how or why he ended up in the pool, just that he did. “Sometimes I think I know,” he settles on, which is only half a lie.</p><p>Quinn shifts closer. “And why’s that?”</p><p>“You ever see me bring anyone home?”</p><p>“Anyone home? Like…a girlfriend?”</p><p>“Yeah, exactly. Like a girlfriend.”</p><p>Quinn pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful. For all the male friends both brothers had, they did also keep company with a fair amount of females. It was hard not to, when they were both hockey players, and, if Jack was going to stop being humble for a second, both very attractive. He knew he tended to draw more interest than Quinn did because he looked more like their mother and had been deemed “pretty” by a few female friends from school, but there had been several times he had seen Quinn in the midst of his own small group of interested women.</p><p>Only Luke had ever brought anyone home, when he was twelve, claiming to be in love. It had been one of those disgustingly cute young romances that was over as fast as it had begun.</p><p>“You didn’t try to kill yourself over a girl, did you?” Quinn is giving Jack a strong side-eye.<br/>
“I’m trying not to judge you here, bro, but no one is worth killing themselves over.”</p><p>“No it’s not that,” Jack replies, waving his hand dismissively, probably too dismissively judging by the look Quinn is now giving him, “it’s…well…think about.”</p><p>“I’m trying but I’m lost. You gotta help me out here.”</p><p>Jack could feel his heart begin to pound in his chest. “Why do you think it’s weird I’ve never brought anyone home, Q?”</p><p>Quinn looks at him for a long moment. His eyes went wide suddenly, and Jack knew he had gotten it. “Holy fucking shit,” he mutters, mouth agape. “You’re fucking joking.”</p><p>Quinn’s words stab Jack squarely in the chest. He feels his breath get caught in his lungs; the room seems to be spinning suddenly, in a way it had never spun before. He isn’t sure but tears might have been building, and he knew if he didn’t stop shaking he’d topple right off the edge of the couch. “Yeah, well, I uh…” he stammers, struggling to stand. “I…fuck it.”</p><p>Quinn grabs him suddenly. “No no no, stop freaking out. I just…shit. Jack.”</p><p>And there was something in the way his brother said his name, something in the desperation of the way he had drawn out the single syllable, that caused Jack to pause. His nerves, though shaken, settle just enough for him to focus.</p><p>Quinn is staring at him, eyes wide, his face laced with fear.</p><p>Something was not right.</p><p>“Quinn?” Jack mutters, not understanding a single thing going on. “What the fuck is up with your face?” It takes him a moment to realize that his brother is shaking as well.</p><p>“You can’t be gay,” Quinn mutters, shaking his head, face still wracked with fear. “You can’t be, you can’t be, because…I…”</p><p>Jack slides onto the couch suddenly. “Oh my god,” he mutters as his brain short circuited, “oh my FUCKING-”</p><p>“Jack,” Quinn cries out again, grabbing his other wrist and clenching it tightly. “Jack, Jack, Jack, holy shit, I-”</p><p>“This can’t be possible,” Jack says as he shakes his hand. “It’s not possible. Is it possible? It can’t be possible. There’s no way it’s possible.”</p><p>“Apparently it is.” Quinn’s eyes look so lost. “Jack.”</p><p>“Do they know? Do mom, do dad, Luke?”</p><p>Quinn shakes his head slowly. “No one knows.”</p><p>Jack breathes in, trying to calm the shaky feeling which had now lodged itself into his chest. “So what do we do?”</p><p>Quinn didn’t look any less lost, his eyes didn’t look any less wide. “I don’t know.”</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>Their parents and Luke return a few days later. Everyone is cheery and smiling brightly and various shades of tan, with gifts for the two boys who had stayed behind. Quinn and Jack smile and laugh appropriately and happily gush over yet another Florida t-shirt to go with the twenty that each had to have collected at this point in their lives, and then they got on their phone to speak with their grandmother, who sighs wistfully over the fact neither of them had come to visit.</p><p>All seems well, and as normal as everything has always been for the Hughes family. The house is neat and clean and their mother doesn’t even mind that Matt and Brady had slept over, and Luke jokingly rags both of them for not having any insane raggers while the house was empty, and Quinn and Jack smile and laugh and roll their eyes where appropriate, and neither brother mentions that the other was gay.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>Jack brings it up one more time, right before he’s about to leave for training camp in South Jersey.</p><p>Quinn is a few weeks into his sophomore year at college. Luke is back in school, rumblings already beginning to be sounded regarding the potential of his play for his junior year. Jack is a nervous mess, looking up the training roster, constantly comparing himself to drafted players he has no business making comparisons to.</p><p>He eventually moves on from the Devils roster to the Rangers roster. He’s curious to see what the neighbors across the way have in terms of talent. He’s secretly hoping to be better than all of them, mostly because he’s from Jersey, but also because he wants to be better than anyone who would be happy to play for New York.</p><p>There only seems to be one main threat.</p><p>Kaapo Kakko is also 18, only a few months older than Jack, although he stands tall at 6’3 and weighs in healthily at 200 pounds. Jack remembers watching him get drafted back in June, not impressed by the seemingly shy Finn raising his index finger up to silently proclaim that yes, he was #1. Kaapo did not have much to say to any of the reporters even though his English seemed fine, and he mostly drifted to the back of the other top draft picks, all who were enthusiastic to be selected in the first round and could not stop talking about it.</p><p>Jack eyes the photograph next to Kaapo’s stats. His smile was strained in a way that suggested he probably wasn’t comfortable being photographed, and his hair, a shade of blonde typical for Scandinavian players, was unruly and messy. Only his eyes seemed to be comfortable and orderly; they were bright and blue, beaming with a happiness that was not suggested by the rest of his demeanor.</p><p>Jack feels something rise inside of him. If he landed the Devils roster, whether it was this year or in the years to come, he would be better than this high-level Rangers draft pick. He owed his great home state of New Jersey that much.</p><p>The door to his room opens suddenly. Jack fumbles, dropping his stack of papers to the floor.</p><p>Quinn stares at him. “I wasn’t, um, was I…”</p><p>“No!” Jack cries out. He reaches down and picks up the papers, tossing them at his brother. “Just looking at training camp rosters, that’s all.”</p><p>Quinn flips through the stack. “Rangers huh?” he says after a moment. He pauses, looking down at the first page. “Got any thoughts on Kakko?”</p><p>Jack shakes his head. “Nope, not even one,” he lies.</p><p>Quinn stares a bit longer. “Too bad New York picked him up. He’s cute.”</p><p>They look at each other. “…is this supposed to be a bonding moment?” Jack whispers.<br/>
Quinn had never passed a comment about the attractiveness of any boy before. He hadn’t even mentioned one word about their shared sexuality since the night Jack had attempted to come out.</p><p>“I dunno.” Quinn looks back down at Kaapo again before depositing the papers on Jack’s bed. “I just came in to say good luck. I’m going over to Brady’s. I don’t think I’ll be home before you leave, so.”</p><p>Sadness hits Jack suddenly. “Oh, really? Well…thanks, Q. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I’m just gonna play my best and hope it’s enough.”</p><p>“Hey, that’s the best you can do. You’ll have to tell me about who’s there. And if you meet any of the guys from the actual team.”</p><p>Jack brightens suddenly. “Oh man, wouldn’t that be fucking awesome? I heard someone say that some of the guys show up to training camp if they’re around, just to see who might be joining the team. It would be so cool to meet them.”</p><p>“And pretty nerve-wracking, I bet.” Quinn smiles slyly at him. “Not that I’m trying to make this a bonding moment, but Nico Hischier? You have to tell me if he’s that hot in person, if he shows up at all.”</p><p>Jack laughs. “Okay, I can agree with you on that. He’s fucking gorgeous.” Nico, with his dark hair and sultry gaze, was definitely one male Jack had no qualms admitting was attractive. He figured most people with good vision would find it hard to disagree with him. Nico was too pretty for the average NHL player. His skating and overall playing abilities only factored into his appeal.</p><p>“Good to know you’ve got good taste in at least one guy,” Quinn jokes. He pauses, just looking at Jack for a moment. “You know, if you ever need to talk about anything…”</p><p>“Yeah, I know. I promise I will.”</p><p>“I’d rather you come to me then…well…”</p><p>Jack knew if he looked to his right he would see the pool from his window. “Yeah, I know. I don’t plan on that happening again.”</p><p>“You know you never even told me exactly…why…well…is there someone? Was there someone in particular?”</p><p>Jack shakes his head. “No. I’m still trying to figure out why, exactly. But there isn’t anyone. No one knows, but you, so…”</p><p>Quinn nods. “I won’t say anything. Just…don’t do that again. Okay?”</p><p>Jack nods in reply, closing his eyes.</p><p>He figures if he doesn’t respond verbally, it wouldn’t count as a broken promise.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>Jack arrives in South Jersey later that day. His mother kisses him on the forehead after he has gathered his things and leaned in to say goodbye.</p><p>“You’re going to do amazing, alright sweetheart? No matter what happens. We are also so proud of you.”</p><p>Jack smiles at his mother’s earnest expression. “I wouldn’t even be here without you, mom. Thank you for everything. I’ll see you at the end of the week.”</p><p>He watches the minivan drive away, a warm feeling settling into his chest.</p><p>Jack receives a roommate, a young Swede named Jesper Bovqist who regards him with half a smile and mutters a quick hello with a heavy accent before returning to talking on his phone in brisk Swedish. Jack wasn’t looking to make friends but he wasn’t expecting to be dismissed so quickly, especially not by another prospect who also hadn’t been invited to the NHL draft.</p><p>“I do not know your name,” Jesper finally says to him after he gets off the phone. He’s looking at Jack’s nametag skeptically.</p><p>Jack frowns. “Funny, I don’t know your name either.”</p><p>The two stare at each other. “This will be much fun, obviously,” Jesper mutters after a moment, the expression on his face sour. “Video games, at least? You play?”</p><p>“I do.” Jack could give him that much of his attention. “What do you have?”</p><p>They end up playing FIFA until it is time for their scheduled dinner. Jesper seems to be quite competitive, switching from cursing in English and Swedish as Jack repeatedly beats him level after level.</p><p>When they return home from dinner they share stories about their home countries, and Jack learns a little bit about Jesper’s family while Jesper is regaled with stories of Quinn and Luke.<br/>
Jesper smiles at him brightly, before they start to change for bed. Jack can’t help but smile back.</p><p>Perhaps he was wrong about not making friends at training camp.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>They are run through a variety of exercises the first day. Jack enters the rink and shivers with anticipation; no matter how many rinks he has stepped inside or how many games he has played, there will never be a sensation that feels quite as amazing as the fresh chill of ice.<br/>
There are around thirty other young prospects at the rink. Jack doesn’t recognize any of them by face but a few last names catch his attention. Soon they are all skating together; scouts look at their footwork, their puck handling skills, the way they follow each other up and down the ice. Only the goalies seem to be getting separate attention but they were literally in a league of their own. Jack feels mostly confident in his performance; he worked his legs hard to keep up with the taller players and he made sure to put just as much skill as flash into using his stick.</p><p>Every night he returns to the hotel room with Jesper chatting pleasantly by his side. His roommate doesn’t seem to like to shut up, and he makes phone calls back to Sweden at all hours of the day with such consistency that Jack can’t help but wonder if anyone sleeps in that country.</p><p>By the end of training camp they make promises to keep in touch. “Just in case we do end up on the team,” Jesper says as he texts Jack his number, “it is good to know I already have a friend to see.”</p><p>Jack can’t help but smile at that.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>The local newspaper is interested in talking to him about his time at training camp when he returns home.</p><p>Jack feels a sense of pride as he chats with the reporter over the phone. His family had made a big deal about his return, and of course his old teammates had all been blowing up his phone the entire time he was away, but this was the first time Jack began to feel any sense of celebrity for having been invited to the Devils’ training camp. The reporter just ask basic questions – <em>what was it like? Was it a worthwhile experience? Did Westwood’s hockey team properly prepare him for this higher level playing field? Were there any players that he was excited to play against?</em> And finally – <em>did he think the Devils would come calling at some point?</em></p><p>Jack paused to consider an actual answer for the last question. He was hopeful the Devils would call, but there was obviously no guarantee it would ever happen. “It would be amazing,” he settles on, “obviously a dream come true. But I’m grateful to even have had the experience. Whatever happens will happen, and I’ll always remember it fondly no matter what.”</p><p>It runs in print a few days later, and his mother proudly hangs it on the fridge.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>The Devils start their season very quietly. Jack pretends not to notice the season has begun at all. He’s started school and is playing on their team, regularly lighting up the goalpost against other teams in the area. He even gets to play against Quinn a handful of times, and their parents sit in the stands cheering loudly while Luke looks bored, texting aimlessly on his phone.</p><p>He pretends not to notice anything outside of his daily life, sticking to his routine, going from day to day as naturally as possible.</p><p>No one says anything as the first anniversary of his accident arrives. His mother hugs him and kisses him a bit longer than normal, and Quinn sends him a heart emoji, but that is all. Jack is grateful for that much; he would be lying if he said it didn’t cross his mind very very briefly in the weeks approaching it.</p><p>The call comes the first week of October, after the pre-season ends. It’s Todd. The Devils are busy sending players up and down, and they would be interested in considering Jack’s availability for joining the team.</p><p>Jack screams and drops the phone.</p><p>He thinks it’s the one time that reaction is appropriate.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>Quinn comes home that night.</p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yells as he bounds up the steps of their front porch. Jack is standing outside, beaming happily. He can see Brady and Matt Tkachuk getting out of the car; it doesn’t surprise Jack that they’re the ones who drove Quinn home, although Matt hanging around with his younger brother and his friend so much seemed a bit odd. He had had NHL ambitions himself at one point, but Jack quickly pushes aside a thought that he would ever expect him to fulfill an impossible favor.</p><p>“Not one fuck is a joke!” Jack yells. The two brothers embrace, Quinn clapping him on the back.</p><p>Both Brady and Matt offer Jack fist bumps when they reach him. “Fucking crazy man,” Brady says. “Whatcha gonna do now that you’re famous?”</p><p>“Hey, I haven’t even gotten out on the ice yet. Let me see what happens,” Jack responds, but he smiles at both the brothers genuinely.</p><p>“Do we get free jerseys out of this?” Matt jokes. He’s wearing one of his Calgary Flames shirts, which everyone knew was his favorite team. Even though they were also from New Jersey, Matt didn’t care for the Devils and he never would.</p><p>“I can’t make any promises. I also don’t know if you wanna wear a 4 everywhere.”</p><p>“Is that your number?” Quinn asks. “4 is so weird for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, 10 is taken so I’m trying here.” Their mother had worn 4 in college. Jack figured she would appreciate the gesture when she saw him on TV the first time tomorrow night. He was keeping it a surprise, assuming Quinn wouldn’t ruin it.</p><p>Quinn rolled his eyes. “You’re trying hard to be her favorite, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Not trying, succeeding.” Jack winked at his older brother. Quinn shook his head, but smiled brightly at him anyway.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>He texts Jesper before heading out the next morning. <em>Looking forward to seeing you. Ready to play?</em> Jesper had also received a call recently. Jack was very pleased about that.</p><p>He gets a sunglasses smiley emoji back. Jack can’t help but smile.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>Jack is greeted by a media storm when his father pulls up to the Prudential Center. He gets out, smiling at every camera that is pointed at his face. He has a brief interview with a reporter from the MSG Network, one of the most surreal moments that Jack had experienced so far that day. When he’s ushered into the Prudential Center he is handed his jersey and told to change so some promotional images can quickly be taken. His father goes off with Todd to look over his contract, which Jack will be expected to sign at some point before he suits up for the night.</p><p>Jack enters the locker room and pauses. He looks at the red cloth in his hands; the Devils logo looks even more intimidating than usual. He slowly turns it over. HUGHES 4 is stitched onto the back, cementing in Jack’s mind that this is not a dream. None of this is a dream. This jersey is as real as the day has been so far and as the rest of the day will be. Jack doesn’t know how it’s possible, but things are happening and they’re happening to him.</p><p>He had gone skating at a local rink the night before to prep his body for the big game. Jack knew that he might not see any ice time outside of warmups, that he might just be a placeholder on the bench for the sake of filling an empty space with a body, but that didn’t matter. He still wanted to be ready, just in case. Even though he had been skating with his team for a few weeks and had kept on top of his fitness all summer, NHL games were a completely different animal then college hockey. Jack knew he couldn’t keep thinking of having an amazing first game; it wasn’t realistic in many senses. It was still fun for him to picture anyway.</p><p>His parents had scrambled to get themselves, Quinn, and Luke last minute tickets. He knew select family and friends would be watching at home. Everyone would be waiting to see Jack take to the ice, and even if he didn’t, they would still act like he had and treat him like he had gone as far as getting the game winning goal.</p><p>The locker room was empty. A stall next to Mackenzie Blackwood had a plate with his name written on it. Jack stepped gingerly forward, making sure to avoid the logo in the center of the room. He touched the nameplate, tracing out the letters.</p><p>HUGHES 4.</p><p>It didn’t feel like it was real, but Jack knew it was very, very real.</p><p> </p>
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</div><p>It hits harder the more the hours draw towards 7pm. At around 5 actual members of the team begin to file in, most in pairs, everyone chattering excitedly.</p><p>Jack had been sitting in his stall, gear on and ready to go. Seeing the members of the New Jersey Devils file in – the New Jersey Devils, the real team, the actual players! – was a surreal experience. Jack could feel excitement coarse through his veins. He had every urge to get up and ask for autographs, even though he knew it didn’t count.</p><p>These players were his teammates now. That was an entirely different concept.</p><p>Most glanced in his direction, nodding quietly. Mackenzie Blackwood shows up about halfway through changing, grumbling about traffic. He gives Jack a side-eye as he sits next to him. Jack vaguely wondered if they knew they were having a replacement player or if they were expecting whoever Jack was sitting for to suddenly walk in, with no idea as to why Jack was taking his spot in the locker room.</p><p>It is quiet for a few moments before he leaned in. “Welcome. I’m Mackenzie,” he says after a moment. “if you need anything, let me know. Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m Jack,” he responded. “Hughes, from Westwood. I was picked up out of the training camp. I’m not signed.”</p><p>Mackenzie raised an eyebrow. “You got picked up out of training camp? That’s kind of a big deal. You must be pretty good if you weren’t drafted.”</p><p>Jack feels heat bloom across his cheeks. “I dunno about that. But we’ll see, I guess.”</p><p>Jesper arrives around twenty minutes later, closely following the other Jesper, Jesper Bratt. The two seem to be chatting amicably in Swedish when Jesper’s eye catches Jack. He grins brightly, rushes over, and the two clasp each other tightly.</p><p>“This is the craziest thing,” Jack says into his ear.</p><p>“It’s hockey,” Jesper replies cheerfully, his eyes shining.</p><p>The locker room door opens one more time.</p><p>Jack had known he wasn’t here, had recalled vaguely registering that it was odd that the star of the Devils and the #1 draft pick from back in 2017 wasn’t at the arena as early as the rest of the team. It made sense that he would follow the Jespers in, however; Jack had read about him living with Jesper Bratt when a local paper had done a profile on Jersey City and its famous residents and an entire section was devoted to the young athletes who had taken up residence in some of the high-end apartment buildings.</p><p>Quinn was definitely going to be pleased to hear that Nico Hischier was even more gorgeous in person.</p><p>Nico entered the locker room with a confidence that wasn’t quite a swagger, though it was easy for Jack to picture his lean body making the motions. He had a toque pulled low over his dark hair, but he looked cozy and comfortable wrapped up in that and his peacoat, and Jack felt insanely jealous of the calm aura he was giving off. He had been playing in the NHL for over two years, so he supposed it made sense that this night was as easy as all the nights that had come before it, but there was something about Nico Jack knew he was never going to be able to replicate.</p><p>A bunch of the other guys on the team got up and acknowledged Nico with hi-fives and hand slaps. Nico smiled brightly, rumbling off greets with the slightest Swiss accent.</p><p>He was absolutely enchanting, if Jack had to be completely honest and poetic at the same time. He had no idea how he was going to be able to be in a locker room with a man that beautiful.</p><p>He forced his eyes down anyway. Jack knew there were times when he was dumb, but he wasn’t that dumb.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He doesn’t play. Jack wasn’t expecting to, and he had had that mental discussion with himself over and over again, trying to get the idea to stick in his head. It had still been the most surreal experience, stepping out into the ice of the Prudential Center for warmups, music blaring and lights flashing. Crowds of people hoarded alongside the boards just like he and his brothers did as kids, banging against the plexiglass looking for pucks. On the opposite side of the rink were the Stars; Jack tried not to marvel at the names stitched into the jerseys that passed him by every few minutes.</p><p>He could not believe that any of this was real.</p><p>He stretched out next to Jesper, for once too nervous to say much. They followed each other closely around the ice, and then worked some pucks into the goal with the rest of the lineup. Mackenzie was starting; he blocked most of the goals with ease.</p><p>Jack managed to sail one in over his left shoulder. That alone felt like a major victory.</p><p>Skating back out of the tunnel after the entrance videos to the sound of Hell’s Bells rushed adrenaline through Jack’s veins in ways he had never experienced before. The red lights almost seemed blinding but he pushed through, gaining ground as he whizzed around the ice. There was too much to look at and not enough to look at. Jack set his eyes wherever he could, on whatever he could. He did not want to forget one single moment, incase there would be no other chance to see any of this again.</p><p>Watching the game from the bench was unfortunately an average experience, much to Jack’s chagrin. He hadn’t really thought why he was expecting anything different from what he had known in high school and earlier. Perhaps it was just the idea that this was the pro-levels. He wasn’t expecting it to be mundane from so close-up.</p><p>And then Tyler Seguin scored one hell of a backhand against Mackenzie, and Jack finally found an understanding about how the similar experience of watching a hockey game from a pro-level bench would never quite be the same as his other leagues.</p><p>The Devils win, 2-1, exciting for the sake of being able to claim the W but not a particularly fancy game. He gets on the lineup behind the rest of the team, knocks fists with the Dallas Stars and tries not to make too big of a deal when Tyler Seguin bumps back, and then they are off to the locker room.</p><p>Jack stands in the showers, eyes shut, skin warm even though he didn’t play. He wants to drown himself in the heat of the warm water regardless, wants to pretend that he had his moment even though that moment hadn’t come just yet.</p><p>The fact that it could come, however? That was something worth feeling amazing about.</p><p>Most of the guys are dressed when he comes back out. Taylor Hall is over in the corner giving an exit interview, having been one of the two goals scored that night. Jack can hear him saying things about how important it is that the team push harder, play harder, that despite the win they could always be doing more, especially this early on in the season.</p><p>The Devils do not have a captain. Jack vaguely wonders if he’s hearing the words of a future one.</p><p>But he’s also aware of the second option for the Devils, the popular choice that he could very easily see being picked.</p><p>Nico bumps his shoulder as Jack is stuffing his gear into his bag.</p><p>“Oh, hey, sorry man.” Nico looks a bit flustered, his accent sounding so off on words that are very much a part of the American English vernacular. He stares at him for a moment. “I don’t know you, do I?”</p><p>Jack tries not to stare in any way that wouldn’t be considered normal. One of the first things he’s going to do when he gets in the car for the drive home is blow up Quinn’s phone with texts. “Uh yeah, no you wouldn’t. I’m Hughes. Jack. Jack Hughes. Got called up to sit in for…” He can’t even remember which player is out. Some Devils fan he is, babbling like an uninformed idiot.</p><p>Nico looks amused. “I do know you. Coach mentioned you and Boqvist were coming up to help us out. You didn’t get any ice time though.”</p><p>Jack shakes his head fervently. No words are better than any words when dealing with the Swiss superstar.</p><p>“Well, maybe next time. I’m Nico Hischier, by the way. See you at practice tomorrow?”</p><p>As if Jack didn’t know that he was Nico Hischier, by the way. He nods, completely having forgotten that he would now be practice with the New Jersey Devils because he was a member of the New Jersey Devils. “Uh huh, yup. I’ll be there.”</p><p>Nico nodded. “Cool. See you then.”</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>The car ride home is filled with flurries of nervous energy. Both of his parents attempt to reassure him that he should still be so proud of his success despite not getting to play on the ice. His mother is showing him the seemingly hundreds of pictures she got of him during warmups that have been sent to any family member with a working phone. Luke is gushing loudly in the far back seat, squealing about the magnificent play of Taylor Hall.</p><p>Quinn is quiet next to him. He doesn’t look upset. His eyes are trained down on his phone, where he is texting quickly.</p><p>Jack shoots him a text when he cannot get his older brother to make eye contact with him. <em>Hischier is so fucking hot in person. I think he knows the effect he has on people.</em></p><p>Quinn finally glances up, a bright glint in his eye. <em>How can he fucking not? The things I would let him do to me that probably aren’t legal in this country.</em></p><p>Jack almost gags reading the response. He quickly turns it into a cough when their mother twists around, peering at her two older sons with justified suspicion in her eyes.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>One of the first things Jack is going to do when he receives his paycheck from his gig with the Devils, no matter how brief the stint ends up being, is cut his dad a huge check for the gas bill. His father hasn’t even complained once about having to drive his son from Westwood to Newark several times already, the 45-minute drive being made to feel less taxing than it was by his father’s cheerfulness.</p><p>Both of his parents had been working hard to keep his spirits up. Jack had his suspicions why, of course. Everyone was genuinely happy for him. But it was hard to ignore the underlying current of something else; the fear, perhaps, that the minute Jack stopped smiling, he might end up floating in the pool again, or whatever the cold-weather equivalent might be.</p><p>Jack was still in therapy once every two weeks. He was doing well, according to all of his doctors, and he found very few reasons to not smile.</p><p>There was a lingering fear even in the back of his mind, however. He thought often of the secret only Quinn knew, and when he would have to face it again. He wondered what would happen when that time came.</p><p>Jack wasn’t so sure, because he genuinely remembered so little from that night, but he often wondered if he had attempted to confront himself about things. He doesn’t know why he would’ve, other than it had been a pressure building inside him for years that was set to burst eventually.</p><p>He still clung desperately to the hope that his parents would be accepting of him when that time did come. Quinn had been, but Jack wasn’t so sure if that was because his brother had no other choice as he was the same way.</p><p>He didn’t know what his parents were going to think about two of their three boys wanting to be with men.</p><p>Jack swallowed the fear, trying to focus on the sound of his father singing along loudly yet proudly with the radio. George Michael. How horrifyingly appropriate – Jack laughed slightly anyway.</p><p>Coach Hynes formally introduces himself to Jack as he is making his way towards the practice arena lockers. He had acknowledged him last night, very briefly, but had been pouring over stats on Dallas with the rest of his staff and did not give Jack much of a real conversation.<br/>
“Good to see you back. Excuse my poor manners from last night. I don’t always occupy the best headspaces on game nights.”</p><p>Jack wasn’t too sure that was a good thing, but he shook Coach Hynes’ hand and smiled anyway. “That’s okay, Coach. I’m happy to be back.”</p><p>“You looked good out there during warmups. I’m planning on keeping a close eye on you and a few other of the young guns out there today. Think about that while you’re making your moves.”</p><p>Jack had it on his mind all while he changed.</p><p>“We’re being watched extra closely,” he whispered into Jesper’s ear when he found his friend watching in the hallway.</p><p>Jesper glanced over his shoulder, flicking a few strands of long blonde hair from his eyes. “I am ready. No coach can scare me from NHL.”</p><p>“Wish I had your confidence.”</p><p>Jesper scoffed. “Ah, you do, Jack Hughes. You play much better than you realize. When we both make team longer than a few weeks, you owe me a dinner.”</p><p>Jack laughed. He had heard about the way teammates were always betting against each other, or how rookies often got tricked into paying for dinners following huge team wins or big contract signings. “If we’re still here by mid-November, I’ll pay for dinner. Your choice.”</p><p>Jesper nodded, looking pleased. “I look forward to free food and okay company.”</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>He does not play the next game against the Flyers, or the game after against Calgary. He does get to fly out to Canada with the team. The two Jespers sit together, leaving him a ball of nervous energy next to Pavel Zacha. Pavel doesn’t talk much, seemingly due to being Czech, but he keeps glancing at Jack out of the corner of his eye every time he so much as fidgets.</p><p>Quinn blows up his phone the entire time he is in Calgary. <em>Teeks said if you can spare it get him an autograph or a puck or even a small shard of ice from the arena.</em></p><p>It takes Jack a moment to realize his brother isn’t talking about Brady. <em>Wtf loyalty to do you have to Matt? I’ll see what I can do.</em></p><p>Quinn sends a flurry of middle finger emojis as a response. Jack opts to be a nice brother and snags a puck for his brother to give to his friend.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>“You know this is normal, sweetheart. They might send you back down before you play.”</p><p>“I know, Mom. It’s okay. I’m okay.”</p><p>There is a pause. “I know you’re strong baby. Your father and I just want you to know it’s okay if this hurts and that we don’t love you any less.”</p><p>Jack knows his mother cares. He tells her as much, promising her that he’ll be careful and keep his head up. He tells her he loves her and she promises to watch the game on TV later that night. He boards the bus to Pittsburgh and doesn’t play in that game either.</p><p>He does, however, get to gawk at Sidney Crosby in person. There is something exciting about that, at least.</p><p> </p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><p>It’s time Jesper texts him not-so-ominously after practice a few days later. Jack stares down at his phone, wondering why his friend just didn’t tell him that to his face. He’s across the locker room, chatting in Swedish with the other Jesper. He hasn’t played as well, although he was being given much more of a priority in practice by Coach Hynes than Jack had been.</p><p>A shadow falls over Jack.</p><p>Nico is smiling down at him. “Good news, rookie. Looks like you and the other Jesper are gonna be making your debuts tomorrow night.”</p><p>Jack lights up so quickly. “What!” he exclaims. He can see Jesper look over from across the room, a knowing smile on his face. “Are you serious? Tomorrow? Who are we…”</p><p>The excitement eclipses suddenly, mixing with a flash of dread.</p><p>Tomorrow was an away game, but the Devils weren’t really going away. At least crossing the Hudson shouldn’t count as away.</p><p>“Shit,” he swore, gazing up at Nico with wide eyes.</p><p>The New York Rangers.</p><p>Jack would be making his debut against the New York Rangers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack spends the entire night fielding texts from Quinn and calls from home, his parents working hard to secure tickets down at Madison Square Garden.  He asked the two Jespers if he could crash at their place; Jesper Boqvist had moved in with Jesper Bratt, and the two seemed more than fine having a third person hanging around. </p>
<p><i>Kakko</i> Quinn texts him alongside the wide-eyed emoji.  <i>You’re debuting against fucking Kakko!</i></p>
<p>It was not lost on Jack that in less than twenty-four hours he would be playing against the #1 draft pick of the NHL.</p>
<p>“You know, Nico was #1 two years ago.  You play with him just fine in practice.  Don’t make Kakko any different.”  Jesper Bratt speaks English much more clearly than Jesper Boqvist and with the sage wisdom of a would-be rookie almost out of his first three years.  Jack remembered hearing that Jesper Bratt had been picked up out of the SHL unsigned and with no apparent value to most of the NHL teams as well.  He had been one of the Devils’ biggest surprises his first year of play.</p>
<p>Jack knows that Jesper is right.</p>
<p>He still can’t fight off the feeling of dread anyway.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jesper Boqvist has never been to New York City.  “I saw it, from plane, on first trip over from Sweden.  It looks big.  Too big.”<p>The Hughes family had made many trips to NYC over the years, their mother forcing them to take pictures infront of any tree or menorah that could then be shipped out to the respective sets of grandparents.  They had been to the Garden a few times as well, though never for a hockey game.  Jack wasn’t too much of a city person but he always enjoyed the trip over, and he could completely see the lure of visiting and even playing for such a city.  Its sheer size was impressive enough, let alone everything else that went on within it.</p>
<p>New Jersey didn’t have much in the way of cities that impressed.  Newark was scarier than not, as much as Jack hated admitting that, and he had never been to Trenton or Camden.  The two Jespers lived together in Jersey City; Jack had never been there before following the two of them home that night.  He couldn’t see too much out of the darkness of Jesper Bratt’s backseat window, but he had heard decent things about this city.  Jesper Boqvist hadn’t passed too many comments about it, other than referring to it as “small”.</p>
<p>“Too big seems to be a good way to describe it,” Jack agreed.  There could never be much of an argument in the way of saying that New York wasn’t massive.  It was the one thing everyone could easily agree on. </p>
<p>Jesper glances over towards the window of his new apartment.  They are on the outskirts of historic downtown Jersey City, in fancy new apartments just shy of the waterfront.  New York’s massive skyscrapers still peek out from between the buildings, and even though it isn’t a direct view, it’s still impressive.  </p>
<p>“I can show you around sometime,” Jack says, his voice soft as he takes in the look of wonder in Jesper’s wide eyes.  “When we don’t have to be in the city for a game.  We’ll take the PATH over.”</p>
<p>Jesper tilts his head, probably not knowing what the PATH is, but he would find out soon enough.  He nods, smiling softly.</p>
<p>There are times where Jesper showed a lot of bravado, a confidence Jack had been finding many of the Swedish players to have.  And then there were times when he wasn’t the chatty and confident Swede that Jack had met towards the end of the summer.  He could be very quiet, especially in the face of things he did not understand.  But he showed a lot of determination in the places where Jack assumed he felt like the outsider.  Being new to America seemed to be one of those areas.  </p>
<p>Jack knew Jesper didn’t like asking for help either.  He had heard Coach Hynes talking to him several times during the last few practices, praising what he did right but making suggestions on where he could improve.  Those suggestions included asking his teammates for help, both on and off the ice.  Coach had complimented that he was happy the two Jespers were together.  Having a Swede helping out another Swede seemed to benefit all parties involved.</p>
<p>Across the river, frustrated with his game and being hard on himself in the media, Jack had read an article last week about how Kaapo was struggling as well.  The Rangers had acquired an influx of Russian players over the summer, but had seemed to skimp on adding any extra Scandinavians.</p>
<p>He vaguely wondered if this would affect the play of the one person Jack had somehow decided would be his rival, even though he had no reason to be.</p>
<p>The Empire State Building glowed blue in the distance, just visible, a reminder of what was coming the next night.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The Devils commute across the river on the PATH train.  Jesper looks less than thrilled when he finds out the train zips underground.<p>“That is a very large river above us,” he says to Jack and Jesper Bratt.</p>
<p>“I don’t think it’s going to come crashing through the tunnel.”  Jesper has his phone out, looking bored.</p>
<p>“That is a very large river above us,” he repeats, looking to Jack for reassurance.  Jack nudges him gently with his elbow.</p>
<p>“We can’t die.  I still gotta take you out to dinner in a few weeks if we haven’t been sent back.”</p>
<p>Jesper side-eyes him.  “I want a nice restaurant.  Not fancy.  But food must be good, and dress should be better than casual.  Fancy, but not too fancy.”</p>
<p>“I think I can work with that.”  Jack makes a mental note to start looking up restaurants in Jersey City.  He didn’t trust that Newark would have much that fit the quality Jesper was seeking.</p>
<p>Jesper shifted, looking pleased.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The team hustles in a side entrance of Madison Square Garden.  Jack has been there several times, but the importance of the arena is never lost on him.  To be clocking minutes of game play there for the first time ever is momentous.  Jack knows his family will be in the stands, and that so many people he knows will be watching on the TV.  Word spread quickly that Jack would finally be getting ice time, and more houses than not in Westwood would have MSG sports up and playing.<p>There was a pressure building low in Jack’s stomach.  He kept pushing it back down, breathing slowly, trying to focus his mind on the small tasks he had to complete in the moment.  There was very little chance he’d do more than skate a few shifts, maybe chase the puck and pass it along once or twice.  He had had this discussion with his parents and with Quinn and Luke over text.  He knew he needed to set his expectations low.</p>
<p>He only wished his heart had gotten the memo.  It pounded relentlessly in his chest, intent on not listening to anything but its own whims.</p>
<p>He only wished he could stop fantasizing about Kaapo Kakko and beating him to a goal, or blocking one of his shots, or meeting up with him on a face-off and winning.</p>
<p>Jack focused hard on the tasks at hand.  Change out of his clothes.  Get into his gear.  Make sure everything was put on in the order he wanted it to be.  Chat with Mackenzie, who also looked a bit wide-eyed, probably at the prospect of going up against Henrik Lundqvist who, despite his age, still inspired awe in so many goalies across the league.  Sit quietly until Coach Hynes came in to give them their pre-game warm-up chat.  Get behind Jesper Bratt in the line for warm-ups.</p>
<p>Breaking into the chill air of Madison Square Garden shouldn’t have felt any different from any other rink Jack had raced out on before.  Somehow, someway, it did feel different.</p>
<p>Jack skated around, looking up at the lights.  The Jumbotron loomed large overhead, blazing the insignia, showing the stats of the starting line-up for the Rangers.</p>
<p>He looked down the ice towards the other goal, where the Blueshirts gathered, stretching and stickhandling.  </p>
<p>Kaapo was easy to find.  He wasn’t wearing a helmet, his blonde hair sticking out in several directions, and he stood taller than several other players on the team.  While he wasn’t big in body size he looked huge with his shoulder pads on.</p>
<p>Jack felt small, suddenly.  He was just above the average height for a male, around the same height as so many players on both teams, and yet he felt dwarfed by someone his own age who was only 6’3’’.</p>
<p>A stick tapped the back of his leg.</p>
<p>Jack looked over his shoulder.  Nico smiled at him, soft and warm.  “No point in starring,” he said.  “It’s not gonna make your first shift any easier.  Come pass a puck with me instead.  That’s a better use of your time.”</p>
<p>“I’m not nervous.”  Jack doesn’t think he sounds very convincing.  Judging by the grin he receives from Nico in response, he guesses he must really not be.</p>
<p>“Sure.”  Nico winks at him, laughing.  “C’mon.  Let’s go make sure you still got moves.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He doesn’t play the first period.<p>Jack is almost grateful, honestly.  The roar of booing when that matchup was announced against the Metropolitan division rivals the New Jersey Devils was almost enough to knock him backwards onto the bench.  The game itself had been surprisingly high-energy, the Rangers out-skating the Devils at a speed that wasn’t normal for them despite the lack of scoring from either team.  Both Mackenzie and Henrik were solid in their nets.</p>
<p>Jack had almost forgotten that the Rangers were not nearly as old of a team as he remembered them being.  They had gotten significantly younger over the summer, and their players’ ages about evening out with the Devils.  Two young teams meant face skating and not necessarily a lot of steady skill.</p>
<p>He couldn’t wait to get out there, even if it meant skating up and down the ice once or twice and then being benched for the rest of the game.</p>
<p>They are on their way out for the start of the second period when Jesper nudges him.</p>
<p>“I hear you’re up soon,” he whispers.  Jack’s heart hammers even more loudly in his chest.</p>
<p>“Do you and Coach have some sort of a deal to share who’s on the ice when?”</p>
<p>“No.  I listen and see more than you know.”</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t doubt that’s the truth.</p>
<p>He begins the second period sitting on the bench.  He leans forward, watching his teammates race around, trying to keep an eye on what Rangers seem to be getting a good amount of ice time vs. others.  Team standouts Artemi Panarin and Mika Zibanejad seem to be most visible.  Both are incredibly formidable players, ones that Jack does and doesn’t want to go up against.</p>
<p>There are around 14 minutes left when he feels a tap on his shoulder.</p>
<p>“You ready, kid?”  Coach Hynes looks stoic but Jack thinks he sees a brief flash of excitement in his eyes.</p>
<p>Jack can barely stand, but somehow he does.  Jack can barely focus on where Coach is telling him to go, but someone he knows.  He scrambles over the boards to relieve Taylor Hall, who fist bumps him and mutters “Good fucking luck”, and then skates out towards the face-off zone.</p>
<p>He leans down next to Pavel Zacha.  His heart has to be in his throat, he thinks, because his insides suddenly feel so light it certainly hasn’t stayed inside his chest.</p>
<p>He watches as Artemi Panarin faces off against Jesper Bratt.  The puck is suddenly loose, and so is he.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack will swear to every single person who asks him afterward that he doesn’t remember it happening.<p>He’s not even sure how it happened.  Focusing had been hard the three shifts he had gotten to play throughout the rest of the game.  He remembers being on the ice, skating around, dodging players.  He remembers seeing the puck, remembers bearing down on it, somehow knowing he was coming up against Lundqvist, certain there had to be a defenseman somewhere beside him.</p>
<p>He wound up and whacked the puck with all the strength he could muster.</p>
<p>He doesn’t remember it going in.  He can remember the noise of the siren, loud and piercing.  He can remember being shoved to the ground by Nico, shrieking loudly in his ear, and then the rest of his team on the ice grabbing him.</p>
<p>It isn’t a game winning goal.  The Devils are down by two.  Jack brings them one step closer to a win.</p>
<p>They don’t end up getting their win, unfortunately.  But while the team retreats quietly to the locker room to change and make the trek back to New Jersey, Jack cannot help but feel a buzzing throughout his entire being.</p>
<p>MSG Network reporters are waiting for him when he steps inside.</p>
<p>“They’d like some words with you,” Coach Hynes says.  Jack knows he isn’t happy with the loss, but he has been giving Jack a very approving look since Jack got off the ice for his last shift.</p>
<p>He remakes the mental note to start looking up restaurants as he approaches the reporters, smiling brightly.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>“You would fucking score in a game where you lose!”<p>Jack rolls his eyes, shoving his gear bag at Quinn.  His family hadn’t come to the locker room after the game, his phone being full of freak-out and congratulations texts that Jack had to wade through to find his mother.  She said they would see him back in Newark.  Luke had followed up with a text that she was crying hysterically.</p>
<p>His mother throws her arms around him the minute after he’s done being harassed by his older brother.  “Oh my god, baby,” she shrieks into his ear.  “I can’t believe it.”</p>
<p>Jack tightens his arms around her, nuzzling in close.  “I know, mom.  It’s so crazy.”</p>
<p>His dad pulls him into a quick hug next, holding on to Jack for the longest time since he returned home from the hospital following his accident.  “I couldn’t be more proud of you son.  That was quite the accomplishment.”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe my brother scored with the New Jersey Devils.” Quinn is smiling.</p>
<p>“Did you get the puck?” Luke asks.</p>
<p>Jack reaches into his coat pocket.  He had been presented with the puck by Taylor Hall, who told him that the Rangers had made a point of saving it for him.  The story of how he was an unsigned, undrafted player had apparently spread very quickly following his performance at the Garden.</p>
<p>Luke takes the puck, marveling at it in quiet wonder.  Jack watches his brother turn it over in his hands.  It is a normal hockey puck in every single way.</p>
<p>For Jack, it is the one true solid reminder that the night had even happened, and that something had finally gone his way.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Things should have gotten easier.<p>They don’t.</p>
<p>Jack spends several nights thinking about everything that has happened after his first goal.  The first night he was full of immense pride unlike anything he had ever felt before.  Everyone he had ever known seemingly reached out to him, congratulating him.  He was a star in the local news, a name that was now beginning to be known throughout the Jersey Devils media.</p>
<p>Things should have gotten easier.</p>
<p>They don’t.</p>
<p>Jack wakes three days after, having played in one more game where he skated a few shifts but did nothing of particular importance.  It is a win against the Panthers, the Florida sun giving them a break from the Northeast chill and making Jack feel alive.</p>
<p>He does not feel very alive that morning.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know what feeling dead would feel like, but he wonders vaguely as he forces himself out of bed if it would feel at all like being submerged in a pool with no idea how you got there.</p>
<p>If he seems off no one says anything.  Jack would not expect his teammates to notice.  They aren’t for the wiser about the pool incident.  Quinn and Luke aren’t around the few days he is home and his parents, though dutifully helping him complete the commute from Westwood to Newark and back, do not say anything about his sudden quiet.  Jack has never been particularly loud.  That was never a problem, until it suddenly is.  </p>
<p>Jack wonders if being dead would feel like being submerged in a pool.  He hadn’t choked too much water back that day, but he had taken in enough to fill his lungs.  Everything had burned.</p>
<p>He would never forget the burning.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Quinn is peering at him from over the edge, eyes wide.  “What is going on?” he asks, voice low in a whisper.  He probably isn’t looking to alert their parents any sooner than he has to, perhaps not to cause Jack to panic.<p>Jack had never thought about climbing into their empty pool.  Their father hasn’t covered it yet, and it is filled with fall leaves, with Jack figures his mother will start yelling about eventually.  <br/>Jack just wanted to be in there, just because he could.  There’s no water.  He can’t drown in an empty pool.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know how to express that to Quinn, doesn’t know how to tell him he’s just there because he felt the need to be.</p>
<p>“Are you going to do anything?”  Quinn is speaking so softly, more soft than Jack has ever heard him.  It’s like he’s talking to a scared animal he’s afraid is going to run into the road.</p>
<p>Quinn is trying to keep him from harming himself.</p>
<p>Jack isn’t going to harm himself.</p>
<p>He thinks.</p>
<p>“I just needed to be here,” he says, his voice shaking.  His whole body is shaking, he realizes suddenly.  His vision goes blurry as the tears start to build.</p>
<p>He can hear Quinn shifting above him.  “Did you use the stairs to get in?” he asks but doesn’t wait for an answer.  Jack shuts his eyes and breathes in, listening to the sounds of Quinn’s feet moving about.</p>
<p>Quinn’s arm is around him.  He yanks his head onto his shoulder.  “Really happy you didn’t jump in,” he says.  “That would’ve been pretty fucking horrifying.”</p>
<p>Jack tries to muster up a laugh.  Instead he just cries.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><i>I hear you’re not feeling well.</i><p>Jack isn’t sure how to respond to Jesper’s text.  The Devils have given him a few days off, calling up a player from Albany to sit in for him.  He doesn’t know what was said to anyone on the team.  Quinn got him up and out of the pool and back into the house, and then he knew his brother went and spoke to his mother.</p>
<p>His father had made the call.  </p>
<p><i>Just needed a couple of days</i>, he responds, eventually.  <i>I’ll be back.  Still gotta go do dinner.  Promise.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Quinn keeps coming home after class is over.  Luke is around too, but he keeps what Jack assumes must be a comfortable distance for him.  He can feel both of his brothers’ eyes on him, watching him, even though all Jack has done in the last few days is lie on the couch watching whatever TV program he can find that is not hockey and get dragged to his therapist.<p>Quinn will join him at night.  He leaves enough space for Jack to not feel crowded, but he’s close enough that if Jack reached out his hand he would feel the warmth of his body.  Luke has inched closer every few nights, but he still doesn’t seem comfortable occupying the same space that Jack does.  Jack can’t blame him.  He’s only 15.  Jack is certain that if he had been younger and Quinn was struggling with things, he wouldn’t have known what to do either.</p>
<p>His parents hover.  They aren’t saying much, just giving him smiles and reassurance whenever they can capture his attention for more than a few seconds, but they are hovering.</p>
<p>Jack can’t blame them.  He’s certain that if he was a parent he would be hovering too.  It only makes sense.  He had slipped up twice.  Once was bad enough.  Twice definitely made sense as a call to alarm.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The thing is, Jack knows that this wasn’t the best thing for him to have done.<p>Since it was obvious that he and Jesper Boqvist were both staying up, there had been the beginning of chatter as to Jack moving closer to Newark.  His parents didn’t know about these conversations, but Jesper Bratt had approached him to say that Jesper Boqvist had approached him about Jack becoming their third roommate.  Jesper said he had a third room available and that the rent wouldn’t be too much being split three ways.  Jack had immediately brightened at the idea, especially since he didn’t have his own car and he felt bad having his parents drive him around constantly when they had themselves and Luke to worry about.</p>
<p>Jack had no idea if the offer still stood.  He had heard from a few of his teammates since his semi-relapse, the guys not quite knowing exactly what was going on but reaching out because that’s what teammates did in times of need.  Jack was grateful, so say the least.  They made him feel like he was a part of something.</p>
<p>Members of the Devils organization had been in touch with his parents, asking around, trying to figure out what support they could put into place to get Jack back safely.  His doctor didn’t think he needed to be out for too long.  Jack hadn’t actually done anything to himself.  He had just ended up at the bottom of a swimming pool with no indication as to why he was there.  He hadn’t jumped in, hadn’t even gotten the slightest of scratches.</p>
<p>He just couldn’t breathe.  Just couldn’t think forward.  Just didn’t know what to do with himself.</p>
<p>The success he had found in a very short period of time was exhilarating.  Jack had known it would be, and he had tried to keep ahead of his thoughts in a way that he wouldn’t be swept up in the madness.  He didn’t think he had lost himself completely, but something must’ve disappeared in the shuffle.  </p>
<p>If Jack was being honest, outside of everything going on with the game, he was feeling one other thing in particular.</p>
<p>Lonely.</p>
<p>This wasn’t new, but that didn’t mean it was ever easy to handle.  Jack had wanted a boyfriend for years.  He had desired physical intimacy with other men, had wanted to be kissed and touched over and over by someone who desired him.  He had gotten around a few summers with other guys he knew through league programs, but nothing ever went anywhere.  Jack wasn’t completely surprised that it hadn’t.  There were a lot of risks there that none of them wanted to take, least of all hockey still being known as a sport that wasn’t exactly inclusive.  Jack also couldn’t picture himself dating any of the guys that he went around with.  He wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted from a boyfriend, outside of someone who made him feel good about himself.</p>
<p>Sometimes he thought about asking Quinn for advice.  He was certain his brother was talking to someone; he was constantly on his phone, which wasn’t odd other than he seemed very protective of anyone glimpsing who it was he was talking to so much.  Brady and Matt Tkachuk still came over, and Quinn seemed exceptionally flustered whenever they came over, especially since Brady had a habit of attempting to steal Quinn’s phone to watch Quinn shriek and flail to get it back.</p>
<p>Matt watched both of them with guarded eyes.  A few times he had gotten up and sacked his brother hard in the arm, causing Brady to complain loudly but surrender Quinn’s phone.  Jack always winced whenever the two of them touched each other; they were both so big, much bigger than any of the Hughes boys, and everything they did to each other looked like it hurt.  Jack also knew their mother would kill them if they ever shoved each other around the way the Tkachuks did, and Jack was grateful for that.  </p>
<p>Jack wondered if the Tkachuks knew who Quinn was talking to.  They didn’t seem like the two most accepting people, but Brady had known Quinn for years, and Jack liked to think they had an honest and solid friendship.  Matt was a whole other story.</p>
<p>Jack wondered if any of Quinn’s friends knew.  Jack wondered if Quinn had had a boyfriend, or at least someone that he had had fun with on a regular basis.</p>
<p>Jack wondered if Quinn was ever lonely.</p>
<p>He wondered why, if Quinn was, why his brother could handle it but he couldn’t.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The night before Jack is set to return to practice he decides to speak with his parents about Jesper Bratt.<p>“I know this might not be the best idea,” he begins over dinner.  Both his parents are chewing with caution, watching him over their forks.  “But I know you’ve both done a lot of driving for me and I really appreciate it.  And I know I haven’t made the best decisions about some…things…this year.  But I really want things to work with the Devils.  And one of the things I want to do is be closer to the team.  Especially since it looks like I’m staying.  So I was wondering.  One of the guys on the team offered for me to stay at his place.  He lives in Jersey City.  Another one of my teammates does too.  And I wouldn’t do anything shady while I was there too.  Promise.”</p>
<p>There is silence at first.  Finally, after a moment, Jack’s father puts his fork down.  “We’ll speak to your doctor and your therapist about it.  And we’ll talk to Todd and see what he thinks about the players that have offered and if it becomes a liability.  It’s not that we don’t trust you,” at this he pauses, giving Jack a serious look, “but you understand why we aren’t both saying yes.”</p>
<p>It isn’t a question.  Jack understands why it is not.  “Yes,” he says.  They haven’t given him a no.  At least he has something to work with if the offer still stands when he returns.</p>
<p>“We will figure it out,” his mother says, smiling softly at her son.</p>
<p>Jack nods, smiling back.  “I can work with that.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>No one treats him oddly when he returns to practice.<p>At most the guys tap his shin with their sticks and tell them they’re glad he’s back and hope he’s feeling better.  Jack returns the motions where appropriate and responds that he is doing better.</p>
<p>It isn’t a lie, especially since no one knows the truth.</p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist skates over to him, smiling widely at his return.  It is more emotion than Jack has ever seen from his teammate that isn’t in response to winning or losing games or the PATH tunnel.  Jack feels oddly flattered to be so missed by a teammate.</p>
<p>“So, dinner,” he says after he and Jesper go over all the things Jack has missed since he was out.  “I was thinking next week, when we have that three day break between home games.  I figure we can do someplace in Jersey City.  There’s a lot of stuff there.”</p>
<p>Jesper nods.  “Remember, you need to have place picked out.  I don’t want to be wandering.”</p>
<p>“Hey, I know.  I got plans.  You’ll see.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>It is after they return from their game against the Kings that Jack receives a text message from a number he doesn’t know.  It has a New York City area code, but Jack doesn’t know anyone from the city that would be texting him randomly whose name he doesn’t already have saved.<p><i>Welcome back.</i> </p>
<p>
  <i>Hey, thank u.</i>
</p>
<p>He waits.  When there is no response he adds <i>who is this?</i></p>
<p>The reply comes two hours later.</p>
<p>
  <i>Someone who is looking forward to playing you Tuesday night.</i>
</p>
<p>Jack almost drops his phone down a flight of stairs.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><i>Kakko texted me.</i><p>
  <i>WHAT???????????????????????????</i>
</p>
<p>Quinn is on the phone seconds after his text.  “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” he shrieks.  He must be somewhere that he won’t be attracting attention.  “You didn’t even talk to him and he found your number.  Wonder what he wants from you.”</p>
<p>Jack has thoughts.  Jack is convinced there’s no way that his thoughts are correct, but he has thoughts.  “I can dream, right?” he laughs into the phone.</p>
<p>Quinn is babbling loudly, the jealousy dripping off every word that pops out of his mouth.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack had not directly interacted with Kakko the night of his first goal.  He remembers seeing Kakko on the ice, but the two never shared a shift together.  Jack had caught his gaze once, after his goal.  He figured Kakko was staring because he was wondering who the wunderkind was that had scored a goal even though he had never officially been drafted to any sort of a pro-level team.  He knew they were discussing him on the Jumbotron; he had heard his name echoing throughout the arena.  It was exhilarating.<p>He must’ve left some sort of an impression.  Hockey players just didn’t text other hockey players they didn’t know.  Kaapo must’ve had his reasoning if he had gone as far to find Jack’s cell phone.</p>
<p>Jack was hopeful, even though he had no idea how real his hopes were.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He settles on a casual farm-to-table, American fair place in downtown Jersey City for his dinner not-date with Jesper.<p>Jack arrives at the double J’s apartment.  He is wearing his nicest skinny jeans and a button-down.  He even combed his hair.  His mother, watching him from down the hall while he was tidying up in the bathroom, had asked him if he was going on a date.</p>
<p>He wasn’t.  He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed when he told her as much.</p>
<p>Quinn and Luke eyed him in the same way when he came down the stairs.  “Dang, I thought only the ladies wanted me,” Luke joked, laughing too much for a fifteen year-old who wasn’t funny.</p>
<p>Quinn tilted his head.  Jack shook his.  “Just eating out with a friend.  Don’t get too excited.”</p>
<p>He passed by Matthew Tkachuk on his way out the door.  “Looking sharp Post J.”  Jack had apparently developed a nickname following the night of his goal.  He didn’t remember it hitting the post before ending up in the net, but Jack didn’t care too much.  A goal was a goal, no matter how it went in.  It counted, and that was all that mattered.</p>
<p>Jack Ubered his way to the nearest train and then rode to Jersey City.</p>
<p>Jesper opened the door, smiling brightly.</p>
<p>Jack felt his breath catch in his throat.  It was a known fact that all Swedes in the NHL were all supposed to be seen as attractive.  Both the Jespers stood at a decent height, with slightly less-than-average builds, with the sunny blonde hair that was so typical of Swedish players.  Jack had marveled at several of his teammates very briefly, Nico Hischier receiving the most of his attention and with good reason that even his straight teammates liked to joke about, but both Jespers were reasonably attractive.  </p>
<p>He just hadn’t realized exactly how attractive Jesper Boqvist was.</p>
<p>Well, that might have been a bit of a lie.  Jack was very good at crushing the thoughts of other men as quickly as possible.  He had made a point of being quick about it when it came to teammates.</p>
<p>But it was hard to ignore at that moment.  His friend’s eyes, which Jack had known were a bright and pretty shade of blue, seemed to be shining with a brightness Jack had never seen before.  He had his hair slicked back in a way that it never was before a game, and he was wearing a white button-down and black slacks.  Everything was tailored perfectly to his body.  </p>
<p><i>This is not a date</i> Jack reminded himself.  <i>No matter how good he looks, this is not a date.</i></p>
<p>“Have fun on your date!” Jesper Bratt calls in from inside.</p>
<p>Jack shoots him a look.  He isn’t so sure, but he could swear that his teammate looks a bit too smug to be normal.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>+<p>Jesper doesn’t say one negative thing about the place Jack chooses for dinner.  He does grumble about being unable to order any liquor, which Jack unfortunately can’t do much about.  He’s way underage to even think of attempting to buy drinks and Jesper is used to the low drinking age in Sweden.  But that seems to be the only issue Jesper has.  He beams brightly at Jack from across the table the almost two hours they are eating.  </p>
<p>Jack finds it hard to concentrate when he is at the full force of Jesper’s smile and shining bright blue eyes.  He had been aware that Jesper had the ability to be that distractingly attractive, but he had never allowed himself the time to process just exactly how attractive his friend is.</p>
<p>They have smooth conversations, switching between talking about playing for the Devils to actually being on the Devils to everyone else on the Devils.</p>
<p>“Hischier is way too handsome.  That is not natural,” Jesper muses over his moules frites. </p>
<p>“My brother would agree with you.”  Jesper has never met Quinn.  He knows Jack has two brothers.</p>
<p>Jesper rolls his eyes.  “Why am I not surprised? He is very popular with the ladies.  Jesper says that he had so many girls around all last year.  And he knows he is charming too.”  He pauses, narrowing his eyes at Jack.  “He is very friendly to you, have you noticed?”</p>
<p>Jack has noticed, a bit, although he doesn’t allow himself to think about it too much.  He just figured it’s some sort of Swiss hospitality that he isn’t used to and not his extremely handsome teammate actually attempting to flirt with him.  He also knows that, if this were true, Quinn would probably kill him for gaining the attention of both Hischier and Kakko, players he seemed to fancy for himself.  “I don’t pay any attention to that.”</p>
<p>Jesper laughs.  “You are not good at lying, Hughes.  Try harder.”</p>
<p>Jack grumbles quietly to himself, but he cannot help but smile at that.</p>
<p>After dinner they stroll through the streets of Jersey City.  At certain points, when they are not too low towards the Hudson, Jack can see some of the skyscrapers from across the way.  They are as beautiful as they always are, lights slowly blinking on as the dusky sky fades into nightly black.  </p>
<p>He thinks about the text in his messages, the New York City area code prominent in his mind with all of Manhattan just before him.</p>
<p>Jesper is watching him closely.  “What are you thinking about so intently?” he asks, but Jack doesn’t respond.  Instead he keeps walking.  Jesper follows closely, eyes searching.</p>
<p>They aren’t approached while they are out, though Jack does notice a few people look their way for extending periods of time.  A few couples at the bar at the restaurant had turned their heads when they walked in and had watched for too long to just be looking for natural curiosity.  Jack had already been feeling so much that night.  Apparently being recognized, signifying that he was beginning to be known throughout his home state for the sport he loved, was something else for him to attempt to comprehend on a night where he could handle it.</p>
<p>He couldn’t do that tonight.  Not with what had happened with Jesper.</p>
<p>Not that anything had happened.  Jack just felt so much potential in the air between them, even though he was just making assumptions purely off his own reactions to the situation.</p>
<p>He is quiet the entire ride back to Westwood.  Jesper had smiled pleasantly when he had returned to the apartment.  Jack was tired, had been thinking about asking if he could stay, but also knew it would just be better if he went.  He didn’t want to imply anything even if there was something there, and too much had gone on recently that it was just safer for him to go home.</p>
<p>Jesper had lingered in the doorway, watching him.  He wasn’t doing anything that was signifying that he was expecting anything, just watching.</p>
<p>Jack had thought about doing something.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if he had.</p>
<p>His mother picks him up at the station, smiling brightly.  “Have fun with your friend?”</p>
<p>Jack nods.  “It was a good night.  A fun night.  Something I needed.”</p>
<p>It is dark in their van, but Jack does not miss the look of relief that flashes across his mother’s face.  “Good, sweetheart.  I’m happy to hear it all went well.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Quinn is not in his bedroom.<p>Luke was already asleep when they arrived home, since he was a normal teenager with school the next day.  His father was in bed too.  His mother kissed him on the forehead once they were in the house and the garage door was locked.  She told him not to stay up too late, or to at least get into bed and then waste time.</p>
<p>Jack knew it would be easier for her to rest herself if she knew where he was.  He intended to be in bed sooner than later, but he wanted to discuss everything with his older brother first.<br/>It was strange that his brother wasn’t in his bed.  He had seen Quinn’s car parked on the street outside when they pulled into the driveway.</p>
<p>Quinn isn’t in the den, or the living room.  It was too cold for him to be outside.  Jack knew that meant there was only one place for his brother to be.</p>
<p>When they were younger, the Hughes brothers had spent a lot of time in their basement.  Their mother had allowed them to set up their X-Box and Playstation down there, along with a foosball table and plenty of other games they had cycled through in their early childhood.  They still went down there, every so often, to play games, but the TV didn’t get any cable channels so they did most of their hanging out and lazing around upstairs.  </p>
<p>It was a bit late for Quinn to be downstairs, especially playing video games by himself.  Jack supposed his brother had been hit by a wave of nostalgia.</p>
<p>The basement door creaked open.  A light shone faintly in the darkness.</p>
<p>Jack bounded down the stairs.  “Hey Q, man, I have to tell you-”</p>
<p>He stopped.</p>
<p>Quinn peered up at him from the sectional couch, his face white and eyes wide.  Matthew Tkachuk stared at him as well, eyes also wide.</p>
<p>Jack had no idea what Matthew was doing on top of his brother.</p>
<p>He blinked, trying to refocus his eyes.  He had to be seeing this wrong.  Matthew was most definitely lying on his brother, and Quinn’s hair was messy, and his shirt – his shirt was definitely pulled down on the neck but also up at the waist, like – and they were scrambling off each other, in that way people did when they were caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be, and – Jack was pretty sure Quinn was just crying out fuck over and over again, and Matthew was saying something too although Jack had no idea what because he could barely focus on anything but Quinn and Quinn’s wide, wide eyes, and – </p>
<p>“HOLY SHIT!”</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t scream it loud enough to carry up two flights of stairs and wake their parents and younger brother, but it is loud enough to get across the complete and utter shock he is currently experiencing.  </p>
<p>Quinn has his head in his hands, still muttering fuck.</p>
<p>Matthew is up, hands up like he his caught, eying Jack warily.  “We know what this looks like.”</p>
<p>“Holy fucking shit.”</p>
<p>“There’s an explanation.”</p>
<p>“You’re hooking up.  Holy shit, is this a joke?”</p>
<p>“It’s not…well…it’s not…”</p>
<p>“Your brother.  Brady, does Brady know you two are messing around?”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t know anything.”  Quinn finally seems to have gained some sense of composure.  He is looking at Jack, eyes determined.  “And you do, now, because there’s no denying what you saw.  So sit down.  And don’t make too much noise.”</p>
<p>Jack sits.  </p>
<p>“Should I go?”</p>
<p>Quinn twists to look at Matt.  Jack can’t see his face, but Quinn must give him some type of look because suddenly Matt is on the couch next to Quinn, looking oddly humbled.</p>
<p>Quinn folds his hands together.  “Jack knows about me,” he says to Matt.  “He just didn’t know about us.  So.”</p>
<p>Us.  That implies – well, Jack knows what it implies.  He can’t believe that something like that would actually be possible with Matthew freaking Tkachuk, of all people.</p>
<p>A thought dawns on Jack suddenly.  He had thought it was odd that Matthew was around as much as Brady was, when he had only ever visited a handful of times in previous years.  There was also the way he acted when Brady was teasing Quinn – it was protective.  Jack had never noticed that before, because he always just assumed it was brothers being brothers, but now –</p>
<p>The Calgary Flames puck.  It all made sense now.</p>
<p>There was a lot he had been missing, apparently.  Quinn did one hell of a job hiding everything.</p>
<p>“You can’t say anything to Mom and Dad.”</p>
<p>“I know.”  Jack honestly couldn’t imagine telling his parents about himself.  Why would he even think twice about outing his older brother?</p>
<p>“No one on Matt’s side knows anything either.”</p>
<p>“So it’s safe for everyone if I just pretend I didn’t see anything?”</p>
<p>Quinn nods.  “I mean I’m not upset you know.  It’s…kinda good, actually.  You can help me keep things quiet.”</p>
<p>“Like by lying?”</p>
<p>“No.  Just by…knowing that when Matt’s around, and if I’m hanging with him…just not making a big deal about it.  I know you thought it was a bit weird he was coming over without Brady and I guess it makes sense now.  So.”</p>
<p>“Wait.  Where does your family think you are?”</p>
<p>Matt rolled his eyes.  “I’m out practicing.  That’s the only thing they believe.”</p>
<p>Jack’s eyes darted to the clock above Matt’s head.  It was close to midnight.  “So…where does your family think you are now?”</p>
<p>“Sometimes I tell them I hang out with my friends.”  He glances over at Quinn, and Jack watches as Matt’s eyes go soft suddenly.  “They don’t ask too much.  It’s all good.”</p>
<p>Quinn is looking back at him, his eyes just as soft.  “We really don’t do too much crazy stuff.  We’re just trying not to get caught.”</p>
<p>“I’m not telling anyone about you, Q.  You know you can trust me.”</p>
<p>“I figured as much.”</p>
<p>They were silent for a second.  “Are we good?” asked Jack.</p>
<p>Quinn nodded.  He shifted slowly towards Matt, smiling softly.  “You gotta leave soon.  Let me walk you out.  Jack…I’ll see you when I come up to bed.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack is up and wide-awake when Quinn comes in a few hours later.  The two brothers look at each other, silent.  Finally Quinn sighs and sits next to Jack, flopping backwards onto the pillow.  Jack joins him, and the two brothers lie silently together.<p>“Teeks?  Really?”</p>
<p>Quinn shoves him.  Jack doesn’t need to look at his brother’s face to know that he’s smiling.  “I know what you’re thinking.  I get why you’re thinking it too.  But he’s very different in this type of situation.”</p>
<p>“Tell me he’s all gross and romantic.”</p>
<p>“Not quite.  Maybe a bit gross.  He likes to cuddle.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t seem like the type.”</p>
<p>“There’s more than him to what you see.”</p>
<p>Jack had a hard time believing that.  But he also knew Quinn wouldn’t be with just anybody.  <br/>“Well.  I hope he makes you happy.”</p>
<p>“He does.  And hey.  Where were you tonight?”</p>
<p>Jack blushed.  “Promised a teammate we’d do dinner if we both made it this far into the season.  So.  Went out in Jersey City.  It was nice.”</p>
<p>“Was it nice or was it nice?”</p>
<p>There is laughter in Quinn’s question.  It catches Jack a little bit.  “It was nice.”</p>
<p>He tried not to think of Jesper’s handsome face and shining eyes.</p>
<p>Jack did it anyway.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The next morning the brothers find themselves alone for breakfast.  Their father had taken out their mother for brunch, a sweet gesture that usually reminded all three boys how lucky they were their parents were still so enamored with each other.  They had spent some time banging around in the kitchen and made what was tasting like pancakes – Jack had practice later and knew he was cheating a bit on the team diet, but after the previous night he needed something that felt warm and familiar.<p>Luke has his headphones on, head bopping along to whatever song he is playing off of Spotify.  Quinn is chewing contently, scrolling through his own phone, smiling softly every few seconds.<br/>Jack watches him, feeling something oddly content blossom in his own chest.</p>
<p>Quinn looks up eventually, catching his eye.  “What?” he says, looking perfectly pleasant in a way Quinn usually was not.</p>
<p>Jack hadn’t actually been planning on saying anything to his brother.  He just knew that he was happy for him, despite still not knowing how to feel about Matthew Tkachuk being the one Quinn was sneaking around with, but Jack was still happy his brother was enjoying himself regardless.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” he replied.  His mind drifted to the text on his phone, the New York City area a faint reminder of a game they had coming up.  “Actually,” he said, opening the text and pushing his phone towards his brother, “tell me what you think I should do about that, especially since you have…you know.”</p>
<p>Quinn glances down, taking a bite from his pancake.  “You ever follow up with him?  That’s a pretty flirty response.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know how to.  What if we’re reading this wrong?”</p>
<p>“You do want to be careful.  There’s a lot of risk if we are.  Although…” Quinn slides Jack’s phone back across the table.  “It’s weird he reached out to you with no reason to.  And he could’ve just said that it was Kaapo texting you, not “someone” looking forward to playing you this week.  That was a choice.”</p>
<p>It was definitely a choice, one that Jack was highly aware of and still was scared to think too much into despite everything.  “You know I went out last night,” he said, thinking of the one other thing that was at the back of his mind and eating up all of his thoughts.</p>
<p>Quinn smirked.  “Mom mentioned you were out with a teammate.  She said it was one of the pretty blondes, but she couldn’t remember his name.”</p>
<p>Jack flushed.  “It was Jesper Boqvist.  We made a deal to go out to eat if we were both still playing up after a month.  That’s it.”</p>
<p>Quinn knew all about how they had been roommates at training camp, and that they had kept in touch, and that Jack had been hoping to maybe move in with the two Jespers if he got lucky.  What he did not know was that Jack agreed with his mother – Jesper was pretty.  He was too pretty for his own good, and he had been distractingly pretty the night before, and Jack wasn’t sure how he was meant to look at him when he saw him at practice later.</p>
<p>It was hard enough for Jack to have to keep his own desire quiet.  It was worse that the NHL, despite claiming being inclusive, would probably not handle well that two players were actively pursuing each other.  Potentially three, even, if Kaapo was also somehow interested.  Jack knew there had to be closeted players, probably not dating each other, but they were there, and Jack – did not want to be the poster child for out players.  He was already seeing a huge interest in making his story as an unsigned high schooler just good enough to play pro something for others to be inspired by.  He wasn’t ready to inspire others in this way.  </p>
<p>“Well it’s good you actually hang out with your teammates.  Just be smart.  And, if anything happens across the river, you gotta be even more smart there.  And I’m not even talking about…well, that…but more like New York and New Jersey fans are always ready to fight each other.  So don’t think that won’t happen, on top of anything else.”</p>
<p>Jack sighed loudly.  “I’m not trying to change the world here.”</p>
<p>“No one said you were.  Sometimes, though, things don’t go the way you want them to.”</p>
<p>Luke popped his headphones off, nodding sagely.  “That is for damn sure my brothers, that is for damn sure.”</p>
<p>Quinn and Jack looked at each other.  Luke smirked brightly.  “No, I wasn’t listening.  But if you think I’m dumb and don’t know what’s going on with both of you, well, maybe you need to realize I’m not that dumb.”  And with that he got up with his empty plate and walked into the kitchen.</p>
<p>The sound of the sink running filled the silence.</p>
<p>“Shitfuck,” Quinn muttered, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“To be fair, you were gonna get caught with Teeks at some point.  I just didn’t know Luke was paying attention.”</p>
<p>“I’m not trying to!” Luke called in from the kitchen.  “You’re really bad at hiding it.  Both of you.  Actually, Quinn’s worse.  And you really should lock the fucking basement door.  You hear less when it’s not cracked open and I have to keep hearing Oooooh Matt over and over again.”</p>
<p>Quinn was such a deep red Jack had to vaguely wonder if his brother’s head was going to blow up.  Jack laughed, shaking his head.  “Well, at least you don’t have to hide it from both of us now.  Although I thought you would’ve been smarter about not making so much noise…”</p>
<p>Quinn let out a low, long groan, resting his forehead against the table.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack goes through the motions at practice that night.<p>There always seems to be a tenseness during practice that makes itself apparent when they are about to play the Rangers.  It makes sense, to a degree, as the Rangers are the biggest rivals with a slew of promising young players that only seems to be matched by the slew of promising young players on the Devils.  It also doesn’t help that both teams are trying hard to be better than they are.  The Rangers and the Devils have been winning about the same amount of games, and seem to be plagued by all the same problems.  They should be better than they are.  They aren’t.</p>
<p>Hopefully, with the rivals coming to their house, they would be able to find the win both they and their fans deserved.</p>
<p>No one says much to each other.  A few of the guys joke, Nico always smiling and laughing even though he’s quieter than usual about it, and he and Jesper Bratt and Taylor Hall goof off a bit.  Both goalies seem on edge, but there is always good reason for that.  </p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist doesn’t say much.  He smiles brightly at Jack when Jack first arrives at the arena, but there are no jokes about their dinner.  No mentions of it at all.</p>
<p>Jack tries not to think about it.</p>
<p>He thinks about it the entire time.</p>
<p>It doesn’t help that there are thoughts of Kaako flooding his brain as well.</p>
<p>They are in the locker room when Jesper Bratt approaches him.  “I’m just curious.  Did you ever think about my offer?”</p>
<p>Jack pauses from untying his skate.  “About…?”</p>
<p>“Moving in.  We’re both find with having another roommate.  And my girlfriend is around sometimes, when she comes in from Sweden.  But she won’t be bothering you.”</p>
<p>Something warm begins to grow in Jack’s chest.  “Uh yeah, I’d love to.  Just gotta check with my parents about it, because, well…”</p>
<p>Jesper has to have some idea about what’s been going on with Jack.  He raises up in hand, smiling softly.  “It’s no worries.  The room won’t disappear.  Let me know when you can.”</p>
<p>Jack decides he’ll mention it to his parents on the ride home that night.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><i>Hey.  So.  I’m good to move in.</i><p>Jesper Bratt sends back a slew of emojis.  <i>We’ll figure out the best day for you to move in.  Welcome to the Haus of Sweden.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Tuesday night comes suddenly.<p>Jack tries not to pay attention to his phone.  He is still receiving texts from family and friends, moreso with a game against the Rangers looming overhead, but none from the number he was hoping to see pop up on his lock screen. </p>
<p>The first time he sees Kaapo is out on the ice during warmups.  He knows the Rangers arrived about an hour previously by way of the PATH train, so they had not been in Newark long enough to go anywhere but from the station to the guest locker room.  Kaapo is skating around alongside Brandon Lemeiux and Brett Howden.  They’re shoving each other around, lots of smiles and laughter visible from even where Jack is standing.  </p>
<p>Kaapo looks up, suddenly, across the ice, right at Jack.  He looks at him, long and quietly, and then nods once, a small smile on his lips.</p>
<p>Jack feels his heart jump up in his chest.  That didn’t happen.  Except it completely did happen.</p>
<p>Jack nods back, smiling brightly.  Kaapo returns the smile before turning around and driving a puck towards Henrik Lundqvist.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The Devils win.<p>Jack’s heart soars, his teammates all big smiles.  The Prudential Center is erupting with screaming unlike anything Jack has ever heard, and they have already won a handful of games at home.  To win against the Rangers is always a big deal, and to win at home is an even bigger deal.  Jack is incredibly proud of his teammates, his friends.</p>
<p>He changes quickly, talks to one of the reporters for the online Devils fansite, and then gets ready to leave.  He looks forward to when he gets to follow both Jespers out of the arena to Pavel Zacha’s car and carpool back to Jersey City.  He still doesn’t mind getting to sleep in his own bed for a little while longer despite that.  </p>
<p>He is waiting outside for his father to pull up with the van when he feels a tap on his shoulder.<br/>Sometimes fans wait outside the Prudential Center for players to leave, asking for autographs or pictures or both.  Nico obviously got chased after the most, while Taylor garnered his fair share of fans still hellbent on harassing him over being with the Oilers and the ever-omnipresent Connor McDavid.  A few fans had grabbed at him, young kids from local teams who told Jack they wanted to be like him when they grew up.  Jack was flattered by any attention he got.  Luckily he wasn’t popular enough to have received any nasty remarks just yet.</p>
<p>Jack turned, expecting to be smiling at a young child and their exasperated parents.  </p>
<p>Kaapo smiled at him, his blue eyes bright.  “Good game,” he said, the English rolling off his Finnish accent well.</p>
<p>Jack fights hard to keep his mouth from dropping open in shock.  He figured Kaapo would’ve been gone already with the rest of the Rangers.  “Thanks.  You too.”  Kaapo had scored despite the loss.  He had a very pretty flourish, one that Jack would never admit he was insanely jealous of.</p>
<p>Kaapo nodded.  “I do what I can.  You Devils are not easy.  But we will win again.”</p>
<p>Jack laughed.  “Maybe.  But not against us.”</p>
<p>“Is that a threat?”</p>
<p>“It is if I have anything to do with it.”</p>
<p>Kaapo’s eyes are shining brightly.  “You are funny, Jack Hughes.  Sami has mentioned that to me.”</p>
<p>And it suddenly all hits Jack like a check to the boards.  Sami Vatanen, also a senior player and beleaguered adult that also got continually bothered by Nico, was from Finland.  He had played with Kaapo in Worlds just that summer.  It would’ve made sense that they were still in touch with Kaapo playing just across the river.  It would make sense that he was still around, especially if he could’ve been going home with Sami.  Jack hadn’t seen him leave.</p>
<p>He suddenly knew how Kaapo had acquired his number as well.  </p>
<p>“You two talk about me?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps.”</p>
<p>Jack feels a warmth in the pit of his stomach that he knows is going to climb its way up to his heart and then his face, coloring it a deep red.  They must’ve been talking about him.  That was something.  It was really something alright.</p>
<p>“Kaapo.”</p>
<p>And there was Sami, all wrapped up in a toque, scarf, and large peacoat.  He looked tired, his gear slung low on his shoulder.  Sami was tired more than other players – he and his wife had a new baby at home and Jack figured Sami was up more than asleep.  Perhaps Kaapo had been drafted as temporary babysitter.  Neither the Rangers or the Devils had games the next day.</p>
<p>“Right.  Well.  Looks like I’m going.”</p>
<p>Jack thought about just letting him leave.  It would’ve been easy enough to just say good-bye, see you soon, look forward to playing you again, hope the baby sleeps through the night.  It would’ve been.  But Jack had not made a lot of things easy for himself this year.  Why start now?</p>
<p>“You should text me,” Jack blurted out, sounding more desperate than he had wanted to.</p>
<p>Kaapo paused, eying him.  Jack could see Sami watching the two of them.  He looked about as entertained as Jesper Bratt watching him and Jesper Boqvist go out to dinner the other night – this was getting a bit dangerous, if Jack had to be honest.  He didn’t like that his teammates were being brave with their facial expressions.  </p>
<p>A bright grin flashed across Kaapo’s face.  “Alright.  I can do that.”</p>
<p>The warm feeling exploded inside Jack’s chest.  He felt like he could float home.  “Alright,” he agreed, trying not to sound too excited.  It was a hard emotion to resist.</p>
<p>Kaapo nodded.  “Until then.”</p>
<p>“Bye.”</p>
<p>Jack watched him go, admiring all 6’3’’ of his body, the width of his shoulders, and – well, he couldn’t really see Kaapo’s butt from underneath his long jacket.  But Jack imagined it was quite impressive regardless.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Two weeks later Jack formally moves in with the Jespers.<p>There is a surprising amount of fanfare for his move-in, which is made even more shocking that most of the fanfare is coming courtesy of Jesper Bratt.  Jesper, although always friendly and talkative, was never exactly exuberant – that was definitely Nico, the eternal ball of Swiss sunshine – but on move-in day it was like he and Nico had switched personalities.  Nico was there, of course, and he was just as pleasant as he had always been, but Jesper was definitely out-Nicoing him.  There was something cute about.</p>
<p>Jack’s new bedroom is not facing out towards New York City.  Jack wouldn’t really be able to see the city anyway, as his view from the apartment wasn’t any less obscured by skyscrapers like the rest of the views from the apartment.  He supposes he’ll enjoy looking out at the random buildings of Jersey City.  He doesn’t know half of them anyway.</p>
<p>Jack’s parents and brothers help him move in.  They buy him new comforters for his bed and bring a good handful of his clothes.  Jack knows he’ll still be going home a lot, but he wants there to be enough that he doesn’t need to make the trek from Jersey City to Westwood anymore often than he knows he will.  His parents are being extremely good natured about everything.  Neither of them had met either Jesper before, but between them and Nico they seemed thoroughly impressed by the friendliness of Jack’s teammates.  His mother especially looked relieved.  After everything that had happened, Jack figured she was probably just happy her son had trustworthy friends that he would be safe living with.</p>
<p>He would do his best not to hurt any of them.  That was the least Jack could do for his parents, and the least he could do for his roommates.</p>
<p>“You are always welcome to visit,” Jesper Bratt tells all of them, but Jack knows he has earned extra brownie points form his mother.  “Jack will have a key and I’ll make sure to give him a spare.  Just incase.”</p>
<p>“You boys are always welcome to come home with him to Westwood.  You never know when you might need a break from the city.  Come see the suburbs and have a home cooked meal,” his mother responds, just as warm and genuine as Jesper.</p>
<p>“And you can see embarrassing baby pictures of Jack too!” Luke chimes in, as if there aren’t embarrassing baby pictures of him Jack will not be saving to use on his next girlfriend.</p>
<p>Everyone laughs, even Jack.  He can’t help but feel good about everything.  It is nice he was able to do what he needed, and even more nice that his parents were being so good to him about.  Jack knew he had to stay strong.  He didn’t want to disappoint any of them.</p>
<p>There were several text messages on his phone from someone else he didn’t want to disappoint.  That prospect was just as alluring to Jack as everything else.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He and Kaapo had been texting several times a day since the night he had stayed over at Sami’s.  Sami hadn’t said anything else about the interaction he had witnessed, but he did give Jack a few very long looks in the first practice after that night.  Jack didn’t say anything, just did what he always did, and Sami seemed to do the same, but he was still watching.<p>Jack wondered what he had said to Kaapo.  There was no doubt in his mind they were talking about him regularly.</p>
<p>It was obvious he was that he was talking to someone, by the way he stared down at his phone and grinned like an idiot.  He and Kaapo weren’t talking about anything scandalous.  Respective teams, home countries, and the general grind of life as a pro-hockey player were the typical topics of conversation.  Occasionally Kaapo would type a remark about another team or game he’d had the time to watch, and a few times he had complained bitterly about New York City.  Apparently he hadn’t been as enamored with it as most players were, finding it too large and loud in comparison to being back home in Finland.  He had told Jack that half the reason he had gone to visit Sami was because he was just that homesick.  Sami’s wife had made him home cooked meals just like what he had eaten back home, and not talking in English for an extended period of time was nice too.</p>
<p>Jack understood the way the pressure was getting to him.  He had seen the obscene number of articles written about Kaapo and whether he was or wasn’t the savior the Rangers had needed.  Jack was lucky that he hadn’t inspired the same type of scrutiny – considering all that had been going on with his mental health since the spring, that would be too much for him to handle.  Kaapo might have been complaining, but he seemed to have a solid brain in his head.  It was natural to complain anyway.  </p>
<p>There hadn’t been any texts about getting together.  Jack wondered if and when those texts would be coming.  It would certainly be possible, a train ride really all they needed to get to each other, and he had a feeling that Kaapo was feeling him out.  He asked a lot about Jack, curious about how he had grown up playing and his unconventional journey to the NHL, but he never got close enough to the dating question.</p>
<p>Jack sometimes thought about asking him.  He also wasn’t that forward, nor was talking in the first place his idea.  He didn’t mind Kaapo getting around to it so long as Kaapo got around to it.</p>
<p>Jack was hopeful, for once, for the first time in a while.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>“Who are you talking to?” Jesper Boqvist asks him one night while they are lounging on the sectionals, the NHL channel on to a reply of the Tampa Bay Lightning against the Minnesota Wild.  Jesper Bratt is out to dinner with his girlfriend Amanda, who will also be staying the night.  Jack had met Amanda a handful of times before that night; she was gorgeous and Swedish, very friendly, and incredibly tolerable of Jesper and his ever-entertaining friendship with Nico.  She didn’t seem to mind that her boyfriend lived with two other guys who were around when she was; Jack figured the logical existence of doors but contributed to that, but Jesper could’ve kicked them both out and had the whole place for the two of them.  The fact that they didn’t said a lot, and Jack was very pleased about that.<p>Jack doesn’t even consider trying to lie.  “Kakko.”</p>
<p>There is a longer than average pause.  “Kaapo Kakko?  On the Rangers?”</p>
<p>“That would be him.”</p>
<p>Jesper goes silent again.  Jack glances up.  His friend is staring at him, head tilted with confusion.  His eyes are searching Jack’s face, for what Jack isn’t so sure.  He just knows the way he’s being searched is making him feel suddenly uncomfortable.  </p>
<p>“What?”  It was meant to come out louder than a whisper.  Jack doesn’t even know exactly where he lost his voice.</p>
<p>Jesper looks like he is going to say something, but then he doesn’t.  He just continues to search Jack, his blue eyes roaming his face over and over again.  “Nothing,” he finally says, his attention drifting back to the game on TV.</p>
<p>The two do not talk for the rest of the evening.  It is the longest they have gone not talking to each other since Jack first met Jesper.</p>
<p>When he goes to bed that night he sleeps terribly.  Jack tries to blame it on anything but the sinking feeling he had felt for the rest of the evening.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack and Kaapo continue to chat almost daily for the next month.  The season has wound its way into December.  Jack is excited for the holiday break, even though he’ll be playing games on the handful of nights his holiday is.  He also celebrates Christmas, a tradition his mother does for their father who is not Jewish, so Jack will at least get to enjoy one holiday home with his family.<p>A box full of decorations and chocolate coins arrives at the apartment not long into December.  <i>Because you’re probably the only Jew there</i> the card reads.  <i>Mom bought everything, but I wrote this.  Let them know to respect your holy days.  But keep all the chocolate for yourself.  Love, Q.</i></p>
<p>The menorah goes up in the living room next to the little fake tree Amanda and Jesper set up with no protest.  The Swedes are curious as to how Hanukkah works; both of them know the holiday, but neither seem to have met many other Jewish people before.  Jack promises that they’ll all celebrate together, so they can learn.</p>
<p>On the first night of Hanukkah he receives a text from Kaapo.  <i>Happy first night!  You know there’s some Hanukkah decorations out here in NYC.  You should come see them.</i></p>
<p>Jack tries to stuff his heart back into his chest but he finds he is having a hard time keeping it where it’s supposed to be.  <i>I’m technically Christian too, through my dad.  I hear there’s a pretty big famous tree worth checking out too.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>I haven’t seen it yet.  Would be interested in going with the right company.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Am I the right company?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>You could be.</i>
</p>
<p>Jack grins like an idiot the rest of the night.  He tries to ignore the look Jesper Boqvist gives him again.  It is the same silent, searching look as the night when he had asked him who he was talking to.  Jack doesn’t doubt that he knows the real reason why he’s so happy.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack ends up going out to New York City mid-December.  The Devils have the night off; the Rangers played a game during the day against the Philadelphia Flyers, pulling off a 5-2 win that Jack hoped would put Kaapo into the best mood possible.<p>He gets a few curious glances from his roommates as he’s getting ready.</p>
<p>“You’re going on a date,” Jesper Bratt says, standing in the doorway to Jack’s bedroom.</p>
<p>Jack tries not to blush but mentally acknowledges he is failing miserably.  “Not quite.  I think.  We’re just going around NYC, looking at all the holiday stuff.”</p>
<p>“You’re going all the way over to NYC?  It’s a date, Hughes.  Why are you even lying?”</p>
<p>In his defense, Kaapo had never called it a date.  He hadn’t even referred to it as hanging out, or anything else in particular.  They were just going to look at the lights and trees and menorahs throughout the city together.  Maybe even see some of the famous department store windows.</p>
<p>“It’s not like I’m taking a red eye to Sweden, Bratter.  Literally half an hour over.  Not that big a deal.”</p>
<p>“Say what you want.  Deny all you can.  I gotta admit, it’s a good idea though.  I should do it with Amanda.  Don’t tell her I was inspired by you, okay?”</p>
<p>Jack absolutely should for the mere reason that Jesper is prying more than he usually does.  He won’t, because he’s a nice person, genuinely likes Amanda, and enjoys the two of them as a couple.  Besides, it’s nice to have a person to put up with Jesper on a regular basis.  Nico might as well move in if anyone really wanted to put in the effort to keep Jesper in check.</p>
<p>He settles on a nice pair of jeans and a warm, form-fitting sweater.  It’s enough to impress without being too fancy or suggesting anything suspicious, just on the chance this really wasn’t a date and Jack had been reading Kaapo wrong for two months.  If it was, he would do significantly better on his outfit the next time around.</p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist doesn’t say anything, just watches Jack quietly when he comes out of his room to put his shoes on.  The two of them had been acting fine to each other.  Jack couldn’t look him in the eyes despite this.</p>
<p>He’s out the door and on the PATH train, switching his thoughts over to Kaapo and the impending evening.</p>
<p>He finds his Finnish conquest at the top of the subway entrance.  Kaapo is looking as handsome as Jack was expecting, but European men tended to wear their clothes better than the average American man did.  Jack still allows himself to drink Kaapo in, to notice the way his eyes were shining and that he had his hair slicked to the side in perfection, or that even his jacket was tailored to his body, showing off all the curves that came average to a hockey player.</p>
<p>Jack could barely contain himself.  There was going to be too much and not enough at the same time.</p>
<p>“Where to first?” Kaapo asks when Jack finally reaches him.</p>
<p>Jack shrugs, struggling to get his thoughts into coherent order.  “Whatever is easiest.  I’ll follow you wherever you go.”</p>
<p>Kaapo pretends to look lost in thought for a moment.  “You know what, c’mon.  I have an idea where we could find some stuff.”  He reached out, taking Jack’s hand in his.  Jack could feel his insides screaming, but he remained as composed as possible.</p>
<p>Kaapo turned left down the street, and the two were suddenly gone.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>They cram several holiday displays within the first hour and a half.  For the fact he complained about living there, Kaapo seemed to know New York very well.  He went in and out of Subways with ease, in and around crowds with ease.  Jack could barely keep up, as he knew only so much about New York City himself.  But Kaapo seemed very capable.  Jack was glad about that much.<p>Somehow they managed to avoid being recognized, which was a bonus as well.  Jack had no idea what all the Devils fan sites would think if they knew he had been hanging around with one of the enemies.  Kaapo didn’t seem interested in being recognized either; he kept his head low when he walked, always darting his eyes from side to side.  </p>
<p>Despite this, Jack was having a wonderful time.  </p>
<p>They reach Rockefeller Center last.</p>
<p>“We aren’t going that close,” Kaapo says.  “There’s always too many people here.  But you’ll be able to see the three above their heads.  I’ve seen pictures.”</p>
<p>Jack has seen the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree before.  He had been regularly since he was four and left home alone, and then his parents decided that educating him on content rather than letting him sit around and watch TV all day was the better plan of action.</p>
<p>The three itself is huge, as it always seems to be.  The LED lights glow bright and colorful on its massive tree prances, and tourists stand infront, their cellphones constantly flashing.</p>
<p>“It’s beautiful,” Jack says.  He means it as well, even though he wouldn’t mind if all the people suddenly disappeared.</p>
<p>“It is,” Kaapo agrees, and he looks down at Jack, his eyes bright.</p>
<p>This is not a date Jack thinks to himself even though it very well might be a date.</p>
<p>They parted a little while later, Kaapo returning Jack back to the entrance to the PATH trains.</p>
<p>“This was nice,” he says.</p>
<p>Jack nods, grinning brightly.  “We don’t have anything that fancy over in Jersey City, but if you’re ever bored…”</p>
<p>Kaapo’s answering grin says it all.</p>
<p>When Jack returns home that night, the apartment is quiet.  There is a light on in Jesper Bratt’s room, visible through the bottom of the doorway, and he can hear the TV on inside.</p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist’s room looks dark.  Jack tries not to think about that as he makes his way towards his own bedroom, the sound of sleep calling loudly for him.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He goes home the following week, right before Christmas.<p>Quinn has just finished his finals and Luke is freed the same day as him.  Their house, more than likely suspiciously quiet with both Quinn and Jack not home on a regular basis, is suddenly full of life.  The boys help get up some last minute decorations and hang the handful of ornaments their father had left specifically for them.  They do one giant Hanukkah meal with their mother and exchange the gifts she has been saving for them.  </p>
<p>Christmas morning they open presents with their father.  Jack notices an extra, smaller box next to Quinn’s pile that his brother very subtly shoves towards the back of the tree where it cannot be seen.  Matt had been over with Brady a few of the nights since Jack had arrived home.  There hadn’t been enough alone time for that type of stuff to be going on, but Jack had seen the glances pass from his brother to Matt.  They were smiling brightly, and Jack was convinced there was no way Brady was missing what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to them at all.</p>
<p>Jack smiles brightly at his brother and Quinn grins back.  They might be Jewish, but Jack doesn’t doubt that Matt hasn’t attempted to wrestle his brother under some mistletoe.  Westwood decorates the entire town like Christmas is the greatest holiday to ever exist and it’s tradition to go around and see all the lights, greenery, and inflatable Santas.  It would make for a sweet date, much like walking around New York City and looking at the storied decorations there.</p>
<p>Jack had not gotten to see Kaapo before he left for break.  He knew he was flying home to Finland with Sami and a few other players from the AHL.  Kaapo was excited, he had shared over text, because Christmas in Finland was a completely unique experience and his mother was too good at cooking the best holiday fish.</p>
<p>The Swedes were all going home too.  Nico had stayed behind to go home with Taylor Hall, but the Jespers had left together early on the day Jack had gone home.  He shared warm hugs with both of them.  Jesper Boqvist, although he hadn’t said anything, was still eying him suspiciously.  He didn’t treat Jack negatively, however.  He clasped him just as hard, held on a bit longer than Jesper Bratt.</p>
<p>Jack hadn’t been looking to let go too quickly either.  He had just felt like hanging on as long as possible.  He wasn’t sure why.</p>
<p>“Have a good Christmas,” he had whispered very softly in his ear.  Jesper squeezed a bit tighter at that.  They would all be back by January 4th.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Part III</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack goes out with his family that night to see the decorations around town.  They meet up with the Tkachuks, Quinn promptly sandwiched between both brothers.  Jack watches as Matt very gently puts his fingers on the small of his brother’s back; it's delicate enough to look like he’s just guiding him around, but subtle enough for Quinn to feel.  His brother has a very content look on his face the entire time, making jokes almost loudly as both brothers.  Jack hangs back with Luke, the two of them nudging each other while their parents walk further up, talking.</p>
<p>“They’re kinda cute, honestly,” Luke mutters to Jack.  They’re in the center of town by the large gazebo, which is strung up with lights and boughs of holly.  Quinn and Matt are standing in it alone, talking quietly.  Brady is off to the side, distracted by something on his phone.  The pair are close together, close enough to look comfortable but not close enough that it would be suspicious.  Matt is leaning down, listening to whatever Quinn is saying, who has his head craned back and is beaming.</p>
<p>“How does no one know?” Jack mutters softly.  “There’s no way Brady is that stupid.”  </p>
<p>“He’s not,” Luke says softly.  “But don’t tell Quinn that.  Although he might know at this point.  It’s hard to tell.”</p>
<p>Jack stares at him, eyes wide.  “Oh.  What?  Is that…is that why he’s keeping his distance?”  Jack knew he didn’t have a totally favorable opinion of Brady, and he had over 10 years of experience with him to justify the way that he felt, but he didn’t think Brady was the type of person to just accept that his older brother and best friend were probably dating and absolutely hooking up.  That completely shattered all assumptions Jack had made about Brady for years.</p>
<p>He supposed he should feel bad about it.  But Quinn also knew what he was getting himself into by hanging around with the Tkachuks.  </p>
<p>But that wasn’t the most pressing thing on his mind at the moment.  Another question had bubbled its way up to the top, one that Jack knew he was going to ask even though he thought he might know the answer.  </p>
<p>“Do Mom and Dad…?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  Well, Mom definitely does.  I heard Quinn talking with her about it one night a few months ago.  I don’t know about Dad.”</p>
<p>Jack felt oddly lightheaded for a moment.  “Oh.  Well…wow.  I didn’t know he’d….and she’s, she’s okay with it?”</p>
<p>Luke shrugged.  “She must be.  Mom’s really chill, you know.”</p>
<p>She was.  That much was true.  And in the back of Jack’s mind, he knew it made complete sense that she would be so accepting of her son.  Their mother loved them, all of them, so unconditionally and equally that Quinn coming out to her probably couldn’t have shaken that bond.  The two of them had always been so close, anyway.  Quinn was her first, and the first one she had ever taught to skate.  They had done so much together before Jack and Luke had been old enough to follow along.</p>
<p>It made sense, too, why she didn’t seem to say anything about Matt being around a lot, and being around late.</p>
<p>Everything made too much sense.</p>
<p>Jack wondered what that meant he would be able to do.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He knocks on Quinn’s door softly.  It is after midnight, but Quinn is still sitting up, idly flipping through a book on the Vancouver Canucks.  He smiles warmly at Jack, a tired look in his eyes.  “Having trouble sleeping?”<p>“No.  Just wanted to ask you something.”</p>
<p>“What’s up?”  There was concern in Quinn’s eyes.  Jack was getting used to people looking at him in that way.  It was better than the suspicious glances he had been receiving from Jesper for weeks.</p>
<p>“I was wondering.  Well.  I was talking to Luke when we were out walking.”</p>
<p>Quinn put his book on the bedside table.  “Oh.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  When did you tell Mom?”</p>
<p>His question comes out so softly that he can barely even hear himself.  Quinn doesn’t react, just looks at Jack for a long moment.  “Back over the summer.  After…”</p>
<p>“You told her after me?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  I figured.  There was enough stuff going on, so I thought it might not be a bad time to mention it.  I think she had gotten an idea from stuff happening with the Tkachuks always being around, but.  She’s fine with it.”</p>
<p>“And Brady, he…”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  He was a bit freaked out.  But it’s okay.  We’ve both talked to him enough over the last few months, so.  He says he’s okay.  We’ll see, I guess.”</p>
<p>Jack turned everything his brother had said to him over in his mind.  “So.  Mom was cool?  Like she…?”</p>
<p>“I mean she was shocked.  And I get that.  But yeah.  She cried a little, told me she loved me.  Then she told me I had to be careful, because I could still get hurt.  And then she asked a bunch of questions.  Like how did I know, if I liked anyone, all of that stuff.”</p>
<p>“Wow.”</p>
<p>“Yeah.  It felt good to get it off my chest finally.  I had been keeping it in for so long and it makes it easier.  So.”</p>
<p>Jack nods.  He doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t know what he should.  He can feel Quinn watching him.  “You know, you can tell her too, when you’re ready.  I think she’ll be shocked but…she’ll still love you, just as much as she still loves me.  You’ll be okay.”</p>
<p>Jack nodded again.  “That sounds good,” he says, but nothing about the statement sounds natural to him.  Quinn is probably right – or at least that’s what he keeps trying to say to himself.  That Quinn is right.  That his mother would be more than fine with two gay sons.  That his father…</p>
<p>They hadn’t even gotten to their father.</p>
<p>Jack stood.  “I’m gonna go to bed.”</p>
<p>Quinn shifted.  He looked nervous.  “You sure you’re okay?”</p>
<p>Jack nodded.  “I promise I’m going to bed.  I just need to think.”</p>
<p>“Alright.”  Quinn still doesn’t sound convinced, but he doesn’t stop Jack from leaving when he does.</p>
<p>Jack goes to bed like he promised.  He does think.  It takes him hours to fall asleep because of it.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack thinks about saying something to his mother a handful of times over the rest of his break.<p>He manages to keep his head above the water of his insecurities.  There is no literal pool for him to fall into, and he won’t let there be a figurative pool either.  Jack fights hard to keep himself up.  He is lucky his brothers distract him.  A handful of his high school friends, also home for break and the holidays, come by to see him.  A few make him come out to their places, and the change of scenery helps Jack feel more at ease.</p>
<p>He keeps himself busy.  Busy is good, at least, and it helps Jack straighten out his thoughts.</p>
<p>He doesn’t end up telling his mother.  He isn’t ready.  Not just yet.  He doesn’t even know how he’d do it, but he knows he wants to do it right.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He is the first person back in the apartment before the season begins again.  The two Jespers would be flying in together in a few days, and Jack intended to enjoy the quietness of the apartment by himself until his two roommates returned and the crazy began all over again.<p>Jack pushes one of the sectionals up towards the large windows in the living room, where he can see bits and pieces of New York City.  He wants to enjoy the view as much as he can when he doesn’t have to share the sectional with other people.  </p>
<p>Jack watches a lot of TV, catching up on shows he hadn’t had a chance to binge since he was home with his family.  He watches the city a lot too.  There’s something interesting about seeing the lights come on bit by bit each night, to figure out what color the Empire State Building would be before it was fully shining.  He enjoyed watching the traffic snaking through the city, trying to figure out what hours were busier than others.</p>
<p>New York City was amazing.  Even though Jack was loyal to New Jersey, had always been a Devils fan and would always be, and was forever happy to be playing for the team he had loved so much, there was something about the concrete jungle across the way that was always alluring.  Jack could understand why people would want to be there.  He understood why thousands of commuters waited in hours of traffic just to glimpse a second of its greatness as they headed into work.  There really was something special about it.</p>
<p>Jack was longing to be walking those streets again, going from block to block with his head up, looking at everything.  Kaapo had passed a remark that a true New Yorker looked down and made a point of not trying to walk into tourists and other locals.  Jack might have almost hit several people while they were looking at the decorations that day.  To his defense, he was technically a tourist, even though the sights and sounds of New York City were not new to him.  </p>
<p>Kaapo would be back soon as well.  Jack wondered what would happen next there.  They hadn’t been able to talk over break, with Kaapo being back in Finland, but Jack was hopeful for an I’m back text.</p>
<p>He had meant to ask for advice, probably from Quinn, but he hadn’t been able to.  Nothing he had wanted to say sounded right.  He didn’t even know what advice Quinn would’ve given him, other than to do what he thought was right.</p>
<p>Jack felt it was safe to say Kaapo was interested.  There was no other reason for him to seek out his number.  Jack had started off as a nobody in the NHL and while he was quickly becoming a somebody through his skill and what he would say was a big dose of sheer dumb luck, he was not on Kaapo’s level.  Kaapo had his league rivals clearly laid out for him and he’d had them since the day of the draft; Jack was not a drafted player.  He was not one of those rivals.  He was just another player, young, with a pretty face, from a rival team, that had somehow caught the attention of Finland’s rising son.</p>
<p>Jack still couldn’t make sense of it.  He couldn’t make sense of several things.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The Jespers return loud and in brisk Swedish, dragging large suitcases through the door as they laughed at jokes Jack would have explained to him over nights with too much wine and Jesper Bratt ranting.<p>Jack looks up at them, still sprawled out on the sectional that he hadn’t moved back to its original place.  Two pairs of dirty blonde eyebrows rise up high at the sight.  Jesper Boqvist smirks.  “Comfy?” he says, and Jack scrambles to sit up instead of having his legs half hanging off the top of the couch.</p>
<p>“Just enjoying the view,” he retorts before scrambling to his feet and yanking his roommates into a double hug.  </p>
<p>Both Jespers return the gesture tightly.  He gets nudged on top of the head by Jesper Bratt.  </p>
<p>“Glad to see you’re looking good.  Not too much Christmas food?”</p>
<p>“Are you joking?  I stuffed my face the entire time.  I’m lucky I’m still this thin.  Doesn’t look like you got too bloated on lingonberries though.”</p>
<p>“No, just with the meatloaf.  And I don’t even really eat that, so I lucked out.  Amanda’s grandmother makes an amazing chocolate pudding though.  That almost did me in.”</p>
<p>Jack looked over at Jesper Boqvist.  His friend was smiling softly at him, eyes bright.  “And you had a good break?”</p>
<p>Jesper nodded.  “I slept.  A lot.  And I ate.  A lot.  It was good.”</p>
<p>The two boys smiled brightly at each other.  Jack had missed being on the receiving end of one of Jesper’s smiles.  They were a nice thing to be in the path of, bright and full of warmth.  </p>
<p>Jesper Bratt rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure glad we didn’t ring in the New Year here.  I imagine me and Amanda wouldn’t be the only ones kissing at midnight.”</p>
<p>Jesper let out a squawk of indignation while Jack flailed.  When it became apparent neither of them was going to be able to come up with a coherent response, Jesper rolled his eyes, looking oddly pleased.  “Right well, I’m going in.  Time to die for the foreseeable future.”  And with that he rolled his suitcase into his bedroom.  Jack watched as he flopped on his bed, not even bothering to shut his door.  </p>
<p>“He sucks.”</p>
<p>“I know.” Jesper sighed.  Whatever warmth had been exuding itself from him suddenly melted away.  He looked nervous.</p>
<p>Jack hated it.  He hated it so much.  “Hey.”  He reached out, gently gripping Jesper’s elbow.</p>
<p>Jesper looked down at Jack’s hand for a moment before his eyes drifted up to Jack’s face.  He stared at him, blue eyes wide.  They were unguarded in a way they usually weren’t; Jack could see fear.  Of what, he wasn’t so sure.</p>
<p>He wondered if he should move his hand away.  He was finding it hard to make his muscles move.  </p>
<p>For every thought he had had of Kaapo over break, he had had twenty more of Jesper.</p>
<p>Jesper was part of the reason why Jack hadn’t said anything to his mother, or to Quinn, or to anyone who might’ve cared.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what to do with himself.  And he especially didn’t know what to do with the boy standing before him.  </p>
<p>“I should let you go inside and get settled,” Jack whispered, his thoughts becoming a statement he hadn’t planned on saying but found to be a good suggestion.</p>
<p>Jesper nodded quickly.  “Yes, you are right.  I should be copying him.”  He gestured towards Jesper Bratt, who was snoring loudly.  “The flight was long.  I don’t know if either of us will be awake before dinner.”</p>
<p>“I’ll be fine.  You go do what you have to.”</p>
<p>Jack moved back, freeing Jesper’s arm.  The Swede quickly scooped up his discarded things and shuffled off inside, head low.  Jack watched him go, heart hammering in his chest.  He was fighting hard against the urge to follow after him.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack corners Jesper Bratt in the kitchen the next morning.<p>He had spent the entire night alone, eating leftovers by himself and watching TV until he felt too bored to be awake.  There had been the sounds of brief, gentle movement a handful of times throughout the night, but no major indication that either Jesper was doing too much outside of basic human needs.  Jesper Bratt had apparently gotten over his jet lag quick enough to be awake at a normal time the next morning.</p>
<p>He doesn’t seem to be too surprised when Jack steps up to him.  He is chewing on cereal, blue eyes bright with mischief.</p>
<p>This doesn’t infuriate Jack the way he wishes it would.  Perhaps not being pushed to yelling will work in his favor.</p>
<p>“What do you know?”</p>
<p>Jesper plays coy.  “Know about what?”</p>
<p>“About…me.  And what I like.  And what I don’t like.  How do you know?”</p>
<p>Jesper pushes himself onto the counter, still munching away at his cereal.  “It’s not totally obvious.  I want you to know that so you don’t think the whole team knows.  But.  Nico called it months ago.”</p>
<p>Jack felt heat rush to his cheeks.  Nico?  He knew he shouldn’t have acted so obvious in front of him – but to be fair, Nico was ridiculously handsome and Jack was certain that even other guys on the team had stared at Nico like he was the best looking thing their eyes had ever seen.  It was hard not to look at him in awe on a regular basis. </p>
<p>“What did I do for him to notice?”</p>
<p>“Nothing.  At least not that I know of.  Nico is super flirty with anything that moves though, and he must’ve picked something up about you.  Maybe you flirted back without knowing.  Who knows.”</p>
<p>Jack felt slightly dizzy.  “And he told you?”</p>
<p>“Yep.  And then you took Jesper out on that date and I figured that you two were gonna be up to something, but then you’ve been seeing someone in New York.  At least, I think you have.  Jesper keeps muttering about someone over there but he won’t tell me who.”</p>
<p>“It wasn’t a date,” Jack blurts out.  Jesper raises his eyebrow at him.  “I mean.  Jesper.  And.  New York City.  They weren’t dates.”</p>
<p>Jesper chewed loudly, staring Jack down.  “You sure about that?”</p>
<p>“I’m certain.  Jesper and I made a promise to do dinner for sticking the team.  And New York…I’ve never really been told what’s going on there, so.  Right now there is nothing going on.  Sorta.  Please don’t tell anyone.”</p>
<p>Jesper raised up his hands.  “I’m not saying a word.  The only other person who knows is Nico.  And probably Jesper, but he doesn’t really talk too much about it.  You don’t have to worry.”</p>
<p>Jack thinks he will be able to breathe normally again soon, but he isn’t so sure.  The kitchen is still spinning.  He has too much to think about.  At least he knows that Jesper is good for his word.  He could’ve been ratted out months ago.  “Thanks.  Okay.  Well.  I’m gonna go back to my room and lie down.”  He turned to go.</p>
<p>“Jack.”  Jesper was suddenly at his shoulder.  “You really are okay.  I’m not saying anything.  And I don’t need to know anything you don’t want me to.  You just let me know if you need anything, okay?”</p>
<p>He tried to give Jesper a shaky smile in response, but his lips kept faltering.  “Thanks, Jesper.  I’ll keep that in mind.”  Jack slipped quickly away towards his bedroom.</p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist’s door was still closed.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>The text comes a few days later.<p>
  <i>Somehow NY is as cold as Finland.  Don’t know how that’s possible.</i>
</p>
<p>Jack is in the kitchen with Jesper and Jesper.  They are making tacos to drag out to the living room and watch alongside football.  He beams like an idiot when he sees the name on his screen.  He tries not to let it bother him that he is being watched by two sets of eyes that he doesn’t want looking at him.</p>
<p>
  <i>Global warming, obviously.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>What’s that?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>A conversation we are not having over text.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>But one we could be having soon?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Yes.  Very soon.</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>They agree to meet a few days later.  The break will be winding to a close once the All Star games are over.  Jack and the Jespers have skated with a few other members of the team in order to keep up their shape.  Jack figures Kaapo has probably been doing the same with whoever is around from the Rangers.  He is completely down and ready to have one giant cheat night with his team diet, however.  He and Kaapo have agreed to build dinner into their plans.<p>Jack finds his nicest shirt and sweater.  He goes for dark wash jeans, ones that almost look like they’re fancy pants.  He works on his hair until everything is natural and tidy.  Overall, he thinks as he looks in the mirror, he looks cute.  Jack has always been told he has a pretty face.  He’s hoping that will work in his favor that night.</p>
<p>Jesper Bratt is out with Amanda, leaving Jesper Boqvist home.  His roommate is on the couch, idly flipping through TV channels.  He barely glances up once Jack walks in, keeping his eyes trained on the TV.</p>
<p>Jack pauses.  He knows Jesper knows how good he looks.  He’d bet anything Jesper wants to know where he’s going.  But his friend won’t say a word.  Jack has been learning far too quickly this year that Swedes are horribly stubborn people.</p>
<p>“Well, I’m going across the river,” he says after enduring painful silence.</p>
<p>Jesper doesn’t even blink, changing the channel again.</p>
<p>Jack sighs, moving towards the front hallway to toe on his shoes.</p>
<p>The TV clicks off.  Jack can see Jesper looking at him from over the top of the couch.  There is an oddly somber look on his face.  His eyes, narrowed with suspicion, are focused on Jack.</p>
<p>Jack waits.</p>
<p>Finally Jesper sighs.  “You know, you don’t have to go all the way over to New York to find somebody.”</p>
<p>And – Jack doesn’t even know what to think.  He really doesn’t even know what to think.  He can feel his brain derailing and crashing into unfixable pieces.  This is not what he needed, not right now, not in this moment – and yet.  This is exactly what he needed.</p>
<p>He needs to approach this situation the right way.  It is an extremely sensitive situation.  He wants to handle it right.  There is an opening for Jack to take, and he needs to take it.</p>
<p>He steps back towards Jesper.  “Is that what you think I’m doing?  Going to find somebody?”</p>
<p>“You’ve found somebody.”  At this Jesper’s mouth twists down in an unpleasant frown.  “I know about Kaapo.  You almost told me that one night.”</p>
<p>Jack had.  He hadn’t even stopped to consider if he was bragging to the right person.  “Pretty stupid of me to share that, honestly.  I should’ve considered a few factors.”</p>
<p>“Like what?”</p>
<p>“Like which country is better.  Sweden or Finland?  I really like what I’ve experienced of Finland so far, but I haven’t been able to spend too much time with Sweden.  But Sweden.”  He stops, next to the couch.  Jesper is still lying there, watching him.  “Sweden is beautiful.  But I can’t figure out what to do with Sweden.  I don’t even know what to do with Finland either.  Neither country has told me what it wants from me.  But I didn’t even know Sweden was a possibility until right now.”</p>
<p>There are a wide variety of emotions flashing through Jesper’s eyes.  Jack waits to see what emotion he lands on.  “Sweden has always been a possibility,” he says, voice low and very soft, “you just haven’t been paying attention.”</p>
<p>It might be an invitation.  Jack isn’t so sure.  He doesn’t know what to do with it now that he has it.  So he decides the easiest thing is just to let Jesper decide what to do.  “And what do you want?”</p>
<p>Jesper stands, slowly, his eyes still on Jack.  He tilts his head, slightly to the right.  It doesn’t look like he’s going to go in for a kiss, just that he’s angling to see Jack better.  As if there’s some reason that he needs to look at him differently.  Like he’s considering him.</p>
<p>“You need to go to New York City and you need to have fun.  When you get back, let me know how you feel.  It’s not fair to me or to Kaapo for you to be so unsure.”  And with that Jesper twists away towards his bedroom.</p>
<p>Jack watches him until his door shuts.  He stands there much longer, staring at the door, immersed in the silence.  He knows he has missed the train he was planning on taking.  But that doesn’t matter now.  So much has stopped mattering.  But Jack knows staying in the apartment is not a good idea, so he leaves.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div><i>Hey.  I’m not coming.  Something came up and I need to deal with it.</i><p>Kaapo responds almost immediately.  <i>That’s okay   See you soon Jersey.</i></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack ends up wandering downtown for several hours.  He needs the space to think, to really sort out his feelings.  And he needs to do it alone, without the input of anyone he knows.<p>Despite the winter chill of January, there is still a lot of foot traffic around Jersey City.  Jack finds comfort wandering around with people who pay no attention to him.  It is not the sort of place where people will recognize him, so he enjoys being no one but Jack Hughes the person.  It is the sort of solitude he needs to get through what he knows he has to.</p>
<p>Jack could’ve gone to New York City.  He could’ve had a nice time.  But Jack also knows he’d be thinking of Jesper the entire time.  And that wouldn’t be fair to Jesper, just like it wouldn’t be fair to Kaapo.  Jesper had at least made his intentions known.</p>
<p>
  <i>You don’t have to go all the way over to New York to find somebody.</i>
</p>
<p>In retrospect, perhaps Jack had known that.  He hadn’t wanted to believe it was possible, either.  And he had been distracted by the appeal of Kaapo.  He didn’t feel like he could be blamed for that.  He was a tall, handsome Finn, one of the best hockey players currently drafted into the league.  He lived and played in New York City.  Every single thing about him was amazing, in theory.  Jack just didn’t know much about him as a person, or what he even wanted.</p>
<p>Jack holes up in a coffee shop.  He’s not much to sit around and sip like he knows what he’s drinking, but he orders some sort of a dark roast and fills it with half n’ half.  Then he thinks.  And he thinks.  And nothing makes any more sense than it already did.  </p>
<p>
  <i>Why Matthew?</i>
</p>
<p><i>What?</i>  Quinn texts back ten minutes later.</p>
<p>
  <i>Why Matthew?  Why him?  What about him?  How did you know?</i>
</p>
<p><i>Oh.</i>  Jack watches the bubble that indicates Quinn is responding.  He takes several minutes, the little graphic of the bubble flashing over and over again.  <i>I wasn’t looking for anything with him.  I don’t think I was looking for anything with anybody.  But he was always just so nice to me.  You know how when they’d come over, Brady could be a bit of a jerk right?  Matt started defending me.  Not in this crazy way, but enough I started noticing.  And then we just got to talking.  I told him that I appreciated it.  That I knew Brady was my friend but he was being stupid sometimes.  And Matt said he could tell, he could see I was upset, and he wanted to fix that.  And he kept saying he wanted to fix things.  I think I eventually realized what he was implying.  And when I knew for sure, I went for it.</i></p>
<p>
  <i>What sort of things was Brady saying?</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Just dumb stuff.  Nothing important.  But basically, I guess I was attracted to Matt’s kindness first.  And I think he’s cute but you can judge me on that :P but yeah.  I don’t know why you’re asking Jack but just.  Think about who makes you happy, and go from there.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Thanks Q</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>You got it J</i>
</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jesper Bratt is still not back when he arrives home from his night out.  There is a chance he is staying somewhere else with Amanda, probably to get as far away from his angsting roommates as possible.  Jack can’t blame him.  He’d want to be somewhere quiet with his girlfriend too if there was too much drama at home.<p>It is 1am.  Jack both is and is not surprised by how easy it was to stay out in Jersey City so late.</p>
<p>Jesper Boqvist has opened is door enough that Jack can see him lying on his bed.  He has the TV on, some crime show casting shadows over his face.  He looks tired and bored.</p>
<p>He is beautiful.  Jack has always known this, somehow.</p>
<p>He knocks, very gently.</p>
<p>Jesper pauses the TV and twists over onto his back.  His eyes sweep over all of Jack.  There is no doubt that he is trying to find some sort of mark to incriminate him, a piece of tousled hair, an untucked shirt – whatever will tell him that Jack and Kaapo were getting up to things.</p>
<p>“I didn’t go.”</p>
<p>Jesper’s eyes go wide.  “What?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t go.”</p>
<p>He sits up.  His face betrays nothing.  Jack both hates and admires him in this moment.  “Why?”</p>
<p>“It didn’t feel right.  And I needed to think.  Do you know coffee shops stay open until 10:30 around here?”</p>
<p>Jesper shakes his head.  “No idea.”</p>
<p>“It’s pretty crazy.  I might not drink another cup of coffee for a week.”</p>
<p>“Are you really standing in my doorway at one in the morning to talk about coffee?”</p>
<p>“No.  But I know I can talk about coffee.  I don’t know how to talk about what I need to.”</p>
<p>Jesper tilted his head.  “Why do you not start with telling me what kept you from going?”</p>
<p>Jack signed.  He could make this hard.  Or he could just be honest.  “You.”</p>
<p>Jesper shows no emotions.  “Me.”</p>
<p>“Yes.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because.  I don’t need to go to New York to find somebody when I have somebody right here.”</p>
<p>“I do not want to be your second choice.”</p>
<p>“But you’re not.  I just didn’t know you were a choice.”</p>
<p>Jesper has his eyes closed.  His face looks pained.  “You are just saying that.”</p>
<p>“No.  I’m not.  I don’t go around looking for people who might be interested and just try and hope they like me back.  I…can’t do that.  So few people know.  Almost no one knows.”</p>
<p>Jesper’s eyes are open again.  They are so blue and looking at Jack with wonder.  “No one knows?”</p>
<p>“My brothers.  And I guess Jesper and Nico.  And you, apparently.  Maybe Kaapo, so maybe Sami.  I have no idea.  But I haven’t said anything to anyone.  My parents don’t even know.   I…this has always been scary for me.  And it’s not any less scary now.”</p>
<p>Jesper stood.  He looked like he was considering moving forward.  Jack felt an urge in his legs to move as well.  He wanted to be closer to him, suddenly.  He had never wanted to be more close to anyone in his life.</p>
<p>“What do we do now?” Jesper whispered.</p>
<p>Jack looked at him for a moment.  “I want to kiss you.”</p>
<p>Jesper’s eyes blew wide, and his face flushed a deep red, and Jack could see a smile trying to fight hard to appear on his lips.  “I would like that.  But I do not want it now.  You should take me on a real date, soon.  And then maybe, if I think it goes well, I will let you kiss me.”</p>
<p>Jack let free a smile whose brightness could only rival the sun.  “Why do you get to decide when I kiss you?”</p>
<p>“Because.  That is what I said.”</p>
<p>“What if I kiss you before the start of the date?  Or when we’re at dinner?  Or walking back to the car?”</p>
<p>Jesper smirked.  “Maybe I will allow it.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack goes home one more time before the end of break.  Quinn is still off for a few more weeks, but Luke has just gone back to school and is complaining bitterly about it to whoever will listen.  His parents are happy to see him.<p>Jack has come home for several reasons.  One is to talk to Quinn.  He hasn’t told anyone about his proposed date with Jesper, but the two of them had been flitting around each other and sharing so many soft smiles in the days after that he thinks Jesper Bratt has probably caught on already.  He needs to get some input for his brother, and he wants Quinn’s advice since he has more experience than Jack at the moment.</p>
<p>The second reason is to talk to his mother.</p>
<p>The reality of going on a date with another boy with the intention of romantic things blossoming from it had spurred a sudden desire in Jack to finally let important people in his life know about what he was doing.  He knew that his mother, who loved him so dearly, would want to partake in things that gave Jack joy.  She had always been one of those people who had almost as much excitement as her own sons as they shared in their accomplishments.  Jack knew she would want to know that he was going out on a date.  Jack needed her to know, and he wanted her to know that it was with another boy.</p>
<p>If Quinn could do it, so could he. </p>
<p>He had no other choice.</p>
<p>Jack waited until night.  Their father was out with Luke at practice, and Quinn was lazing around on the couch watching TV.  Their mother was in her bedroom, folding laundry.</p>
<p>Jack stood in the doorway for a long moment, just looking at her.  “Mom.”</p>
<p>She turned, smiling brightly.  “Hi honey.  What’s going on?”</p>
<p>Jack steps into the room slowly.  He approaches the bed, sitting down on the edge away from the laundry pile and where his mother is working.  She is watching him, still smiling, but Jack knows that she’s definitely wondering why he’s here and being so quiet.</p>
<p>“I need to talk to you about something.”</p>
<p>His mother turns towards him fully, setting down the laundry slowly.  “Alright.”</p>
<p>“Mom, you know how back when…well, me and the pool.  I’m still not sure exactly why I did what I did, not fully.  But.”  Jack paused, sucking in a breath.  He could feel what must’ve been tears rushing to get out.  He didn’t want to cry, though.  He wasn’t there just yet.  “I…uh.  Mom.  Quinn’s not…the only one of us…who likes…”</p>
<p>The tears erupt without warning and Jack puts his hands over his face.  “I’m sorry Mom,” he says, low and broken, with nothing else to add.  It’s as out as he’s going to get at this moment in time, at this point in his life.  But it’s out.  He’s out.</p>
<p>His mother is suddenly a warmth surrounding him, pulling him close.  “Oh honey, Jack baby.  It’s okay honey.  I love you.  I know it’s hard, but I love you.  Nothing’s going to change.”</p>
<p>Jack allows a sob to come out and then he decides he won’t keep fighting it.  He starts to bawl uncontrollably, his face buried against his mother’s shoulder.  She is whispering affirmations in his ear, stroking his hair, <i>it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay</i>.</p>
<p>Jack doesn’t feel okay.  But he knows his mother isn’t lying to him.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>At some point he ends up back in his room.  He lies there quietly, in the dark, just enjoying the silence.  There is a raw feeling in his chest.  The crying left him feeling tired and empty; he had lost a big part of himself that night.  It had been extremely different from telling Quinn.  Jack knew he was going to need more time to take care of himself.<p>But he had survived.  Things did not have to end, or to change, as his mother had kept telling him.  He could still be Jack.  </p>
<p>He’s half asleep when his door opens.  Jack can’t see who it is, but a figure moves across the room.  His bed drips low and suddenly there’s the warm heat of a body against his back, long and full.</p>
<p>It’s Luke.</p>
<p>“You good?” his brother whispers.</p>
<p>Jack nods, relaxing into the heat of his younger brother’s body.</p>
<p>“Kay.  Quinn told me what you were doing, so.  I’m here too.”  He can feel Luke press his hand between his shoulders.  “Everyone still loves you Jack.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, Luke.”</p>
<p>Jack falls asleep not longer after.  When he wakes up to the gray light of early morning, Luke is still with him fast asleep.</p>
<p>Jack looks over his little brother’s face, peaceful and content.  Something inside Jack fills up; he feels whole again, like he can still exist the way that he had always meant to exist, despite anything that hadn’t exactly gone his way.</p>
<p>He feels better about that morning.  Jack thinks he can feel better about the other days that will come.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Jack finds himself alone in the kitchen that morning.<p>He is easily up earlier than every other person in his family.  But Jack doesn’t mind it.  Their kitchen, usually full and bursting with life, is just as pleasant when it is just him standing there.  There’s something to be said for silence, especially when one had two brothers and talkative parents.</p>
<p>Jack stands at the sink, looking out the window.</p>
<p>He can see the pool, covered for the winter, from where he stands.</p>
<p>Jack is still unsure how he is supposed to feel when he looks at the pool.  He tries to avoid thinking about that first night, just like he tries to avoid thinking about that second night.  His family didn’t talk about anything, and no one else knew the details.  They all just assumed Jack had been sick for a bit.  Perhaps the pressure of playing for the New Jersey Devils had gotten to him, and he needed a bit of a break.  He was so young, after all.</p>
<p>Jack was alright with that being the story people were spinning.  It was certainly better than acknowledging the truth.</p>
<p>He didn’t think he had wanted to die that night.  But he honestly hadn’t put much thought into what he was doing at all.  He had just known he was outside, by the pool, and then he somehow ended up in it.  Maybe there had been thoughts about how nice it would be just to sink to the bottom of the pool and stay there.  Maybe there had been thoughts about how much easier things would be if he didn’t have to think of anything at all because the water wouldn’t allow it.</p>
<p>Maybe there had been several hours of thoughts like that, and maybe those several hours had been born from several days of the same thoughts.</p>
<p>Jack had not told his family this.  His therapist knew.</p>
<p>That second night he had just wanted to be somewhere he felt safe.  The pool had seemed to be the safest place in his mind that night, and he was still surprised he had gotten down into it without hurting himself.</p>
<p>Despite everything, he was glad he hadn’t lost his life either night.</p>
<p>Despite everything, he knew he owed a huge part of his survival to Quinn.</p>
<p>He and Quinn had never really talked about what had happened.  With all things considered, especially concerning their sexualities, they probably never would.  But Quinn had been a real hero that night, somehow managing to keep a solid head while saving his brother from drowning and maybe attempting suicide, Jack was still too hesitant to call it that.  Before all of this, Quinn had just been his brother that he rolled his eyes at and found annoying.  But now he was more than his brother.  He was also definitely a friend.</p>
<p>Jack was thankful he had Quinn to handle everything with.  Quinn had stepped up in ways Jack would’ve never expected, and he was certainly less jealous of him than Jack would’ve ever expected.</p>
<p>Luke had also been really good about everything too.  That had also been a surprise, but in the best possible way.  Jack hadn’t expected a lot from his younger brother, but Luke was being very chill about stuff that could’ve totally freaked him out.</p>
<p>At some point he would tell them about Jesper.  His family knew who Jesper was, but only Quinn had any idea that he and Jack liked each other.  Quinn hadn’t said much about it, just telling Jack to ask for any advice if he needed it especially because of his experience with Matt – which Jack was still trying to understand, because it certainly made very little sense to him.</p>
<p>He thought about telling his mother he had a date.  He figured that might be something she’d like, and that she would appreciate being included in his life.  </p>
<p>He was trying hard for his family.  He wanted them to know that, despite everything, he was still just Jack Hughes.  Maybe he played for the Devils, and maybe he wanted to date boys.  Maybe he had wanted to see what happened if he sat at the bottom of the pool for too long.</p>
<p>But, despite things getting a bit blurry, he was still Jack.</p>
<p>He think they knew that, even though he’d never told them.</p>
<p>Luke is the next one awake.  He joins Jack downstairs, smiling sleepily at him as he shuffles around looking for food.</p>
<p>He doesn’t say anything about how he had stayed with Jack all night.</p>
<p>Jack realizes he doesn’t need to.  Sometimes, with love, no words had to be said.  The actions were just as important than the words would ever be.</p>
<p>Luke had acted.  And that was something Jack was very grateful for.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Quinn makes Jack promise him to tell him all the details of the date.<p>“You’ll be the first person I text.  I might even call you from the bathroom if I need any help.”</p>
<p>“My phone will literally be on me all night.  I won’t miss anything.”</p>
<p>“Even with Teeks there to distract you?”</p>
<p>The remark earned Jack a shove.  It was still given with a smile anyway.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>“I wanted you to know I have a date, at some point, when I get back.”<p>His mother doesn’t press him for details.  She just hugs him, kissing the side of his head, and smiles brightly.  “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.  With someone nice I hope.  You don’t have to tell me anything until you get back and decide if you like him enough for a second date.  But I hope you have a nice time.”</p>
<p>Jack beams.  It’s more than he was expecting.</p>
<p>It’s enough.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>He is met with a huge smile from Jesper Boqvist when he returns to the apartment.<p>It is instantaneously infectious.  Jack allows himself to beam back the way he wants to.<br/>Jesper Bratt looks between the two of them from where he is lounging on the couch.  “Get a freaking room, both of you, and not the one next to mine.”</p>
<p>“But my bed is comfier,” Jesper deadpans, winking at Jack.</p>
<p>“Not when I toss it out on the street.”  Jesper Bratt is doing a very hard job of trying to look stern.  He is doing a terrible job.  Finally he just allows himself to break, grinning brightly.  “You two suck” he settles on instead.</p>
<p>“I dunno, do we suck, or do we suck?” Jacks asks, feigning being lost in thought.</p>
<p>There is a pause.</p>
<p>“Oh god, stop it!” Jesper Bratt whines as Jesper starts giggling.  “I’m gonna regret ever letting you live here, aren’t I?”</p>
<p>Jack nods.  “You know, you very well might.”</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>Their first game back after break feels electric.<p>Jack zips around on the ice, chasing the puck at every opportunity he gets.  The Devils are playing the New York Islanders, and while there is less stake losing to them then the Rangers, Jack would very much like the team to get a win on their first home game back.</p>
<p>He gets his wish.</p>
<p>Jack can barely contain his excitement when they wind up back in the locker room.  The win obviously feels good, but there is something else major that he is looking forward to.</p>
<p>He tries his best not to glance over at Jesper.  He knows if he does, everyone will see the way the two of them look at each other and anything that’s still hidden will be even harder to hide.</p>
<p>Jack usually didn’t like early games.  At least they had played at 5, and it was only just after 7:30, which left everyone with time to go out and eat.  Some of his teammates were talking about going and getting food together, and others were planning on meeting up with family.</p>
<p>Jack would be taking the train to Jersey City, as he always did after home games, but he wouldn’t be going alone.</p>
<p>He had made sure to wear one of his nicest suits to the game that day for a very specific reason.  It would look even better out at dinner, across from an equally as well-dressed person.  </p>
<p>Jack looks up.  He can see Jesper smiling down at the floor while Pavel Zacha chats beside him.  Anyone who didn’t know any better would think Jesper was just smiling at the conversation.</p>
<p>Jack knows better.</p>
<p>There is something insanely amazing about he is the only one who knows better.</p>
<p>Jesper leaves the locker room first, Jack following a few minutes later.  They get to the station at different times, trying to look amicable standing on the platform.</p>
<p>It doesn’t look weird when they are pressed up against each other on the train from shoulder all the way down to knee.</p>
<p>It doesn’t look weird when they walk up the PATH tunnel and exit it pressed shoulder to shoulder, or when Jack takes Jesper’s hand in his and keeps it pressed between their bodies.</p>
<p>Jesper squeezes his hand tightly.  It is the best feeling Jack has ever felt</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>+</p>
</div>There are several texts on his phone.  Jack doesn’t check anything until they return to the apartment.<p>The dinner had been delicious and fun, and then Jesper had wanted to walk around for a bit.  They looped the streets of Jersey City full and smiling, and Jack relished every second he was able to get Jack to laugh.  They hadn’t kissed, but Jack didn’t mind.  He was having too much fun to care.</p>
<p>There would be time for a kiss from Jesper.  Jack knew that would be a wonderful moment when it did come.</p>
<p>Jesper was watching him while he flipped through his phone.  Most of them were freaking out texts from Quinn.  His mother had also wished them well.  That made Jack smile.  Having his mother happy for him was still something special.  </p>
<p>Love you guys he sent back to both of them.  Had a great time.  Will update when I see you.</p>
<p>“Family?” Jesper asks.  Jack had explained to him over dinner who did and didn’t know about his preferences.  He had also mentioned a bit about Quinn, to put some of his initial fears into perspective.  Jesper had been very attentive while listening, and then had gone on to explain who at home knew.</p>
<p>A lot of people did, including many members of the Devils.  Jesper said Sweden happened to be a more accepting place than other countries, although he did still find much of what he had to do as hard.  Jack admired him anyway.  It seemed that the experiences differed from person to person.</p>
<p>“My brother and mother are excited for us.”</p>
<p>Jesper beamed.  “That’s nice.  So is Bratter, and Amanda.  They both said hi and told us to behave.”</p>
<p>Jack laughed.  “I like how they’re assuming things.  I guess it makes sense.”</p>
<p>“I think it makes sense too.  We are both young and attractive and on a date.  Things usually happen.”</p>
<p>Jack raised an eyebrow at him.  Jesper was lying on the sectional, a small smile on his face.  “Things like…?”</p>
<p>Jesper shrugged, resting his head against the throw pillows.  “I do not know.  Maybe that kiss you want.  That could be one of the things.”</p>
<p>Jack stepped forward.  Jesper’s eyebrows rose.  “You think you want to give me that kiss, huh?”</p>
<p>“I might.  Date was good.  Could be a nice way to thank you for a very nice time.”</p>
<p>“You should stand up.  I could lie on you, but that might imply other things.”</p>
<p>Jesper flushed.  “Well, that is good point.  Other things require more discussion.”</p>
<p>“Exactly.  Let’s start easy.”</p>
<p>He reached him.  Jesper was on his feet, peering at Jack’s face with a tentative smile.  Jack reached out his hand, touching his cheek with his fingers.</p>
<p>Jack had given kisses before, and he had received many.  He knew what he was doing.  He had a feeling Jesper did as well.</p>
<p>It didn’t make anything any less nerve-wracking.</p>
<p>He leaned in slowly, brushing their lips together, before slotting his mouth on Jesper’s.  </p>
<p>He wound up pressing him into the couch anyway.</p>
<p>“Maybe I should not have gotten up,” Jesper giggled into the space between him and Jack when Jack finally pulled back to breathe.  </p>
<p>Jack smirked, rolling his eyes.  “Just admit you want me this much, Boqvist.”</p>
<p>“I admit nothing.”</p>
<p>“You’re such a tease.”</p>
<p>“If that is a problem why are you still smiling?”</p>
<p>And with that, Jack kissed him again.  And again.  And again.</p>
<p>They would wind up falling asleep curled up in each other’s arms, warm from their shared heat.</p>
<p>In the morning Jack would wake first, dim light from the rising sun blanketing all of Jersey City with a gentle shine.  New York City was barely visible, still brightly light up and twinkling merrily in the way it always did.</p>
<p>Jesper was still fast asleep beneath him.  Jack took a moment to just drink in the view.  His hair was as golden as the incoming sunlight, and the content happy look he was wearing made him look even more peaceful and beautiful than Jack would have ever thought possible.</p>
<p>He kisses him very briefly against the forehead.  </p>
<p>Jack knows how lucky he is to have Jesper.  </p>
<p>Sometime later, when he is awake and they are both getting ready, Jack will venture the idea for a second date.  There is no doubt in his mind Jesper will say yes.  After that, he will venture the idea for more dates, and then ask him about going exclusive. </p>
<p>He knows Jesper will say yes.  Jesper would have said yes months ago, if only Jack had been smart enough to realize that.  But it is better things worked out this way.  Jack had enough time to acknowledge his feelings, and now that he has, he can do his best to work on building a good relationship with his first ever real boyfriend.</p>
<p>He wonders vaguely if the happy feeling swallowing up his insides is similar to what Quinn felt when Matt Tkachuk finally came around, or he got brave enough to make a move, whatever actually happened first.  One day he will ask Quinn to tell him their story.  That will be the day where he knows he will truly see Matthew Tkachuk in a different light.  </p>
<p>It was a wonderful feeling, one that Jack is happy that he is no longer afraid to acknowledge.  He doesn’t know how or when he will tell the rest of the team, perhaps rolling it out on a need to know basis.  The front office will need to know as well, in an effort to make sure everything is handled correctly.</p>
<p>Jack knows he and Jesper will do all the right moves for their own success.  </p>
<p>His future is as bright as it has always been.</p>
<p>Jack is finally happy he can see it.</p>
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